Detroit: Become Human - Being Human
by CaptainSheridan
Summary: It's been a year since Markus liberated the androids from humanity and things have started to settle down in Detroit. Not all is well; however, as Connor and Hank begin to investigate a series of crimes involving androids committing homicide in Red Ice deals gone wrong. With the assistance of an FBI Agent, Hank and Connor find out that what's on the surface isn't everything.
1. Chapter 1: The Detective in The Stars

**Note to Readers:**

 **To those who are or have been reading this story, thank you. This is a work in progress, so I do occasionally update small details in each chapter to stay consistent, but I'll never change major plot events. If you read this story and like it, I would appreciate a review just so I know my efforts to continue writing are not in vain. If you have any comments or questions about it(like details I didn't explain or inconsistencies), please let me know. And once again, I give my thanks to anyone who reads this story, I hope you enjoy.**

* * *

"I look upon the stars and what do I see?" spoke her invisible mother from the darkness.

But the young woman couldn't answer. She didn't know the answer. Maybe she didn't know it then, but maybe someday she would.

"More stars, I guess," she answered anyway.

There was a long moment of silence between them. It was a painful kind of silence. This was the kind of silence that burned a hole in her heart.

"Mother?" she prodded at the cold darkness of the room hoping to feel something, anything. "I..."

There would never be a reply, so she wept. She wept because her mother was dead. Her mother would never be there because her mother had died five years ago. Sometimes in the darkness of the night, she would find herself struggling against sleep as memories from the past came to taunt her. It was a true burden being able to remember things in such vividness. There are things that haunt us all and Henrietta Monroe was no exception to that rule; however, she was not Henrietta Monroe. Henrietta Monroe is a shadow of the person she really is. Henrietta Monroe is the mask she wears to hide who she really is: a truly horrible person.

* * *

It was raining in Detroit that day as the skies were fogged up with murky clouds. She stood at the edge of the intersection not paying any particular attention to the world. The droplets from above trickled down her ruddy face and plastered her long, golden-red hair to her cheeks. She had forgotten why she was even standing at that street corner. What was she doing? She had forgotten to bring an umbrella with her despite the downfall. This wasn't any good, mainly because it was her first day reporting to her new assignment. She couldn't show up at the station looking like a depressed, wet dog.

* * *

It had been almost one year since androids were liberated by Markus. For the most part, things had settled down in this new world. Androids were still fighting an uphill battle in attempts to gain true freedom. Just because it said they were equals on paper doesn't mean they actually were. Connor knew this. Connor knew this because he was an android and he was there that fateful day. If it wasn't for Markus, who knows what would have happened to the machine known as Connor Android RK800.

"First real android detective," Hank patted Connor on the shoulder and grinned.

"It is what I was originally programmed to do," Connor's response rang cold.

"Yeah, but you could have done anything," Hank tried to explain. "But you did this and you've done great."

Connor did his best to offer Hank a smile, though he knew Hank wasn't going to fall for it. Connor was glad to be a real detective, at least he thinks he is. It didn't feel like much of an accomplishment though. Connor was intended to be superior to most at detective work, hence his feelings towards this supposed achievement.

"All I'm saying is learn to take a fucking compliment," Hank gave Connor another solid pat on the back.

"Alright," this time Connor's smile was more genuine. "Thanks, Lieutenant."

* * *

"You're late," the Captain narrowed his eyes at her, seeming to be a bit disdainful.

"I had something important to attend to." which was somewhat a lie. "I apologize."

"You're failing to impress me so far. I don't take too kindly disobedient officers."

"No offence, sir, but I don't actually take my orders directly from you," there was no malice in her voice, just calm resolve. "But I can assure you this won't happen again."

"Jesus Christ," the Captain muttered this to himself in hopes she didn't notice.

"Excuse me, sir?" again, she was perfectly calm.

"Hank isn't going to happy about this. He hasn't had positive experiences with the FBI so far." he studied her with somewhat of a grimace.

"I'm here to help, not cause problems, sir," she understood that not everyone would appreciate her involvement.

Captain Fowler slowly got up from his desk and stepped outside of his office.

"Hank, Connor," he called the two men and gestured toward his office.

"Fucking great," Hank murmured at Connor and rolled his eyes.

"Anytime!" the Captain snapped at them and was clearly losing his patience.

Connor wasn't always sure what to do in these circumstances. It was part of his job to listen to the Captain; however, he preferred to mirror some of Hank's actions. Hank once told Connor that you shouldn't bend to the demands of others so willingly, even those of your superiors. There were subtleties in human actions that Connor still had a difficult time grasping. Hank would get distraught if Connor copied too many of his actions; on the other hand, Hank would get upset if he didn't act like him at all. Connor sees Hank as his best friend and he is grateful for that, but sometimes he just didn't understand humans at all.

By the time Fowler turned back into his office, Hank got up from his chair. Connor followed this.

"I doubt it's anything to worry about," Connor tried to ease Hank's stress by being positive in most situations.

"Not sure if you noticed, but I'm pretty sure that woman he has been talking to is FBI."

"I did a facial scan of her when she arrived at the office," Connor explained. "Her name is Henrietta Olivia Monroe. She was born on October 27th, 2015. She is currently a Special Agent for the FBI."

"Seems a bit young to be a Special Agent," Hank commented.

"It is not uncommon for FBI Agents to be as young as 23," Connor thought about his own age and the fact that he was a detective. "If it helps you to understand, I am not even a year and a half old myself."

"You're not a human, Connor," Hank scoffed at Connor's nonsensical reply. "It's not really the same thing."

The two officers finally entered the Captain's office. Henrietta already knew who they were and their track record and she was certain they already knew a thing or two about her. Obviously, they didn't know everything because nobody knew everything about Henrietta.

"I would like the two of you to meet-" Fowler didn't have time to finish his sentence before Connor interrupted him.

"Special Agent Henrietta Monroe," Connor had a bad habit of cutting off humans mid-sentence when he probably shouldn't have.

"Alright," the Captain sighed in annoyance. "We will skip the introductions. Agent Monroe has been assigned to assist the two of you in your case."

"What case are you talking about, Jeffery?" as far as Hank was aware, they had no case currently assigned to them.

"You've recently investigated three separate cases involving androids that committed homicide," Henrietta spoke so coldly and calmly. She always tried to present herself in the most professional capacity possible. "You had suspected the three cases were related, but you were told it would not be your responsibility to investigate them further. The two of you are now being taken off of homicide to specifically investigate this case."

"Okay..." Hank looked both annoyed and confused. "What does this have to do with the FBI?"

"Any cases involving androids are still considered highly sensitive," Henrietta gave Hank a long, hard look. "We have three androids who committed the same crime for the exact same reason. The question is: why? I was told all three androids confessed to the crimes and even expressed guilt for their actions. To the FBI it appears androids are being exploited to commit dangerous crimes."

Connor agreed with her on this one. The androids that confessed to the murders were afraid and nervous when they were interrogated. Connor and Hank agreed there had to be some sort of connection between the three crimes. The biggest connection that they suspected was the presence of Red Ice at each crime scene. All three androids said the assaults were drug deals gone wrong. The victims used Red Ice and owed somebody money, so the androids were sent to rough them up, but instead of being just pushed around the victims ended up dead.

"I've been informed you have a lot of experience dealing with Red Ice take-down operations," she twitched her head to the side and looked at Hank. "So, with your past experience and the fact the two of you worked on the android homicides, you've been given this case. The FBI wants to keep a close eye on this situation, so I've been assigned to assist the two you. I want you to understand that I am not in charge of this case nor am I here to impede your progression. I am solely here to assist the two of you in whatever capacity I can. I take my orders from the two of you, not the FBI."

"How do think you can help us exactly?" Hank turned to Connor. "We've already got Connor. He catches things most humans don't and I catch things most androids don't."

"Sometimes a third perspective helps," for once Henrietta gave away a slight grin. "I think you'd both be surprised by what I am capable of doing. I assure you I will be a great asset to your team."

"I assume you will want to review the evidence that we collected from the three cases?" Connor inquired as the three of them exited the Captain's office together.

"Yes, of course," Henrietta replied immediately. "that was my thought exactly."

"Well, I'm going for lunch," Hank added without even batting an eye at the two.

"I will review the evidence with her, Lieutenant," Connor promptly nodded in Hank's direction even though he was no longer paying attention to them.

"I don't need assistance; I can go over everything on my own," Henrietta was aware that working with Connor could be a possible detriment to her.

"You don't have access to the evidence locker," Connor informed her. "Also, I can offer additional explanations and assistance if you require such."

"I have a feeling that you and Hank probably don't trust me," in fact, that was the feeling she got from most people she had to work with.

"No..." Connor replied defensively. "That did not occur to me. You made your intentions clear. You have yet to give me a reason not to trust you."

If only he knew the truth. He would know Henrietta was a rather gifted liar; it was her job after all. That's what her life had been for so long; a web of lies.

Connor gave her access to all the evidence from the three cases, including the interrogations that Hank performed on the suspects. All the suspects admitted to the murders and explained their motives. They were responsible for acquiring unpaid debts from drug users. They were told to gain payment by any means possible, but they were never explicitly instructed to commit murder; however, that is what happened. The three androids also refused to offer any information on who they worked for; nonetheless, they confessed to the murders.

"We were never able to get information about who they worked for," Connor said it as if she were ignorant of this fact. "I think that's what frustrated Hank the most. We were told we wouldn't have anything to do with that part of the case. It was our responsibility to catch and detain the suspects, but that was it. You think Hank would be happy now that we are trying to put a stop to the whole operation."

"I think he wishes he didn't have to work with the FBI," Henrietta was listening to Connor, but she was placing most of her attention on the videos they had watched. "I noticed a few things."

"Really?" Connor was actually shocked. What could she have noticed that he himself was unable to? "What did you see? I'm sure it's something we're already aware of."

"Did you notice the way they blinked?" Henrietta knew he hadn't because she knew he wasn't looking for it. "Or how they displayed a particular speech pattern?"

"I don't see how that's relevant to the investigation, Agent," Connor felt suddenly out of touch with the world. What did she see that he couldn't?

"It means there's something wrong in the software of these androids," Henrietta knew she would find something; she came here knowing she would find something. "There's an error in their programming, a bug of some kind."

"How can you tell?" Connor still didn't understand what was going on.

"They repeat the same blinking pattern every seventy-three seconds," she waited for Connor's response.

"That doesn't make sense," Connor was well aware of how androids were supposed to function, but things have changed since the Revolution. Androids were perfectly capable of acting in rather unconventional ways. Even so, some things would never change. "Androids are programmed to have randomized blinking patterns in order to seem as natural as possible; there should be no repeating pattern."

"Exactly," Henrietta pointed at him. "And their speech. Did you notice that they never used a contraction while they were talking? That's something that androids should be capable of doing."

"I detected no anomalies in their software at that time," if something was wrong, Connor was certain he could have detected it.

"Maybe it's not something a machine can see," if Henrietta took pride in one thing, it was the parts of her that were more than that. "They couldn't see it themselves, but there is something wrong with them, Connor. You can see that much, right?"

"I believe you," Connor assumed that this is what it felt like to be offended. He doubted it was her intention to insult him, but what she said did hurt him in a way.

"What we need is to access their code," Henrietta did not pick up on Connor's hurt feelings. She often felt detached from humanity, maybe in a way that Connor wasn't.

"The only way to do that would be to probe them," Connor shook his head in disagreement. "If they were unwilling to give us information about whom they worked for, they won't agree to be probed."

"Maybe," Henrietta paused for a moment to think. "Maybe they won't agree to be probed, but maybe they will allow us to examine specific programs that their systems are running. The errors I noticed were related to speech and physical movements, not memories. The only thing they have to hide is what's in their memories, which we won't need to access."

"I think you're asking for a lot," Connor spoke doubtfully. "What if they don't even agree to that?"

"If you have an idea that will propel this investigation forward, I would be glad to hear it," she stared at him silently.

"I don't."

* * *

"I contacted the detention centre about our suspects," Henrietta gently placed a cup of coffee down at Hank's desk. "I scheduled a visit for 3 o'clock tomorrow."

"Is that for me?" Hank furrowed his brow at her.

"I overheard you complaining about being tired to Connor," she smiled insincerely at him.

"Well, if there's nothing left to do today, I think I'll go anyways," Hank pushed the cup back into her hands as he got up from his desk. "I think I need a drink."

She kept her eyes on him until he left the building; Connor had noticed this.

"Are you okay, Agent?" he detected sadness in her expression.

"Of course," she snapped out of it. "What do you do when there's no work to be done?"

"There's always work to be done," Connor chirped. "I'm very good at filing reports. There are plenty of other officers here who I find will need additional assistance from time to time."

"Tomorrow..." Henrietta hesitated. She wasn't even sure why she was bothering with small talk. Henrietta didn't make friends and Henrietta didn't have a family. Henrietta had her work, which was all she needed, or so she's told.

"Tomorrow?" Connor wondered why she stopped before she completed a thought. When he looked at her, he saw her eyes glaze over as she abruptly seemed lost.

"Nothing." and she left without another word.

* * *

"Hank?" Henrietta sat down on the bar-stool next to him.

"Yeah...?" he turned to her and looked annoyed. "What are you doing here? How'd you even find me?"

"You said you were getting a drink so I checked whatever bars were closest to the station," this was a lie, she already knew Hank frequented Jimmy's.

"You know who you remind me of?" he chuckled to himself. "You remind me of Connor when I first met him."

"Is that a good thing?" she hoped it was.

"I didn't like him when I first met him," he chugged the last bit of whisky in his glass. "But things can change. I used to come here a lot more. Not as much now."

"Is that a good thing?" she hoped it was.

"Yeah, yeah. Things have gotten better," he glanced at her. "But sometimes they get worse."

"You're not happy about my presence," she placed personal importance on Hank's approval of her. "I'm not here to be a burden. Hank, I..."

"What?" and he saw what Connor saw earlier. He saw that sudden expression of being lost in the world.

"To be honest, being here with the two of you is difficult for me as well," she frowned. "I really didn't want this. You have no idea how complicated everything is, but I didn't have a choice. All we can do now is make the best of it."

Hank couldn't come up with a response to that remark.

"Goodnight, Lieutenant."

* * *

"I know it hurts, child," Dr. Polanski always seemed sympathetic, but Henrietta fucking hated him. She hated him and everyone here.

"You don't know what real pain is, Mister Polanski," she gritted through her teeth and tears. "Real pain is being shredded to pieces while watching all your friends fucking die."

"You need to calm down, Henri," he shushed her and patted her damp forehead.

"This is nothing in comparison!" she barked at him and jerked from the table. "This is nothing!"

He sedated her. She had one hell of a temper, and for a good reason, but it was not helpful to her recovery.

"She's tough, but not very cooperative," Dr. Polanski turned his attention to Captain Davis.

"She's tough and that's all that matters," Captain Davis also fucking hated Dr. Polanski. For all he was concerned, Dr. Polanski was the real monster. "Is it going to work?"

"She has thus far been my most successful patient," Dr. Polanski knew everyone fucking hated him, that was the burden of his career. "She's going to make it. She's going to be okay."

"When can we expect to get her into training?" Captain Davis cared about Henrietta's well being; however, he had a job to do.

"She's not going to have an easy time adapting to the world now," he stroked her forehead with compassion. "It will take her a couple weeks to get fully back on her feet."

"And when she does?" asked the Captain.

"When she does you'll be happy you agreed to this," the doctor looked sorrowfully at the young woman that was Henrietta on the table. "I doubt she will, though."


	2. Chapter 2: The Android in The Room

"Connor, Connor." chimed the young, perky officer known as Ashley Williams. "I'm sorry I didn't see you yesterday. I heard you were promoted to detective. Congratulations!"

"Thanks, Officer Williams." Connor understood that Ashley Williams appreciated his presence at the police station.

"I got you something." she beamed at him as she handed over a wrapped box. "Yesterday was your promotion and today is the anniversary of the Android Revolution, so you have lots to celebrate."

"I've never celebrated anything before." Connor turned the box in his hands and placed it on his desk. "Thank you for the gift, Officer."

"You should open it." Ashley insisted. "And please, remember, just call me Ashley. Officer Williams is so informal."

"I will remember that." Connor smiled and picked the gift back up and unwrapped it. "Headphones? I already have a pair, but I appreciate the gesture."

"I know you have some already." Ashley blushed with slight embarrassment. "These ones are really good and I know you like listening to music."

"I find the ones I already possess are sufficient for my enjoyment." he attempted to hand the headphones back to Ashley.

"Just take them, Connor." Henrietta stepped in to spare the girl any more shame.

"Yes, of course." Connor realized he had made a mistake. You should never say no to a gift presented in good faith. "I love them, Ashley."

"Oh, great." she blushed again, but not from embarrassment this time. "I have to go on patrol now, but I'll see you later, okay?"

She skipped away and joined another officer as she left.

"She seems energetic," Henrietta commented. "She also seems to like you a lot."

"I am aware." Connor frowned slightly. "Hank told me that she obviously really likes me."

"Don't you like her?" Henrietta was genuinely curious if he did. She knew a lot about how androids functioned as a machine, but she knew little about their blossoming emotional aspect.

"I do." Connor paused for a moment and averted his gaze from Henrietta.

"But?" Henrietta stepped into his line of sight.

"I don't have additional feelings for her besides that." he had awkwardly asked Hank once about how to know when you love someone; unfortunately, Hank wasn't willing to offer much information on the subject.

"Are you sure?" Henrietta thought about how confusing it must feel to be so immature emotionally. "Most humans live their entire lives not really knowing if they ever found true love. Love isn't an easily describable emotion; it means something different to everyone and there are different kinds of love."

"With humans, it seems that you know it when it happens, right?" Connor was curious if Henrietta was willing to offer some advice on the subject.

"That's why we are capable of loving those who cause us the most pain." Henrietta had experienced such a thing herself once or twice. "It's not very rational, is it?"

"Emotions aren't intrinsically rational." Connor acknowledged. "But I've learned I would rather have them than not, despite how confusing they are."

"That, I cannot agree with," Henrietta responded with a slight bit of despair in her voice as she took a seat at her desk. "We should probably go." she gestured her head in Hank's direction who was slumped over his desk.

"Are you ready yet?" Connor peered down at Hank and could tell that he was a bit hungover. "Long night, Lieutenant?"

"Yeah," he squinted in Connor's direction. "Yeah. I noticed you weren't there when I got home."

"Do you live together?" Henrietta interrupted from her desk.

"In a way." Connor replied. "I live with Hank because I have nowhere else to go. I don't require a place to sleep and I have very few possessions, but I mostly spend my time here at the station."

"Interesting." Henrietta gave Hank a smile, but it went unnoticed.

"Hank," Connor moved on from the subject. Not that he didn't want to talk about it. Connor enjoyed living with Hank, especially since Connor liked spending time with Sumo. Connor also knew that he was the sense of stability that Hank needed in his life. Hank tried to take care of himself; however, he required the occasional pick-me-up from Connor. Last night was a bit different; Connor knew Hank was desperate for some time alone. "We must depart now in order to arrive on time for our appointment at the detention centre."

"Yeah, yeah," Hank pushed his fists into his eyes and slowly stood up. "Let's get out of here."

* * *

Henrietta sat on a cold, white tiled floor. She shivered, not just because it was cold, but also because she was afraid. She knew that the mirror across from her was of the two way variety and that she was being watched. Her limbs appeared to be uncharacteristically black through her blurred vision. She had difficulty seeing anything out of her right eye.

"We would like you to try again, Henri." a flat toned voice boomed from the speakers in the room. "You must miss having a bed to sleep in. Do this for us and we will give it back."

"I don't know how to do that." she whimpered in response. "I can't keep it on."

"Try again for us." the voice boomed once more.

It was almost impossible for Henrietta to concentrate on one particular task. She could see all the memories of her life being played in her mind all at once; it was maddening.

"Try again for us." the voice repeated.

"I can't, I can't think straight." she cried to herself as she saw the accident being played over and over again in her head. "Where's Tom?"

"Tom is dead, Henri." this time the voice sounded frustrated. "We've been over this before, Henri. Tom died in the accident. Everyone died in the accident except for you."

"No, no, it can't," and then she remembered the pain. "No!"

"It's happening again." Captain Davis turned angrily towards Dr. Everett. "This isn't working!"

"You need to have patience with her." the doctor answered coolly. "She has made a lot of progress. You haven't the smallest clue about what it's like to be her right now, Captain. She needs time to adjust to everything."

"I was promised that I could start training her a week ago!" Davis snapped. "I need her as soon as possible."

"Give me one more week with her," Dr. Everett was not intimidated by the Captain's display. "and she will be ready. Remember, this is more than just using her as your military strong arm. She is something very special now."

* * *

"I would like to talk to them." Henrietta asked Connor and Hank as they waited outside the holding area of the detention centre.

"No fucking way." Hank responded in a harsh tone. "They don't know who you are and they were my suspects."

"Our suspects." Connor corrected the Lieutenant. "However, he is right. It might not be advisable for you to talk to them."

"You two have already had your chance with them." Henrietta needed to be able to contact the androids directly herself. "I might be able to get additional information out of them."

"That's not even what we're fucking here for." snapped Hank. "I thought you two just wanted fucking access to a program they had or whatever."

"Yes, I know." Henrietta remained calm with her tone. "But I still might be able to get something else out of them. How will you know if you don't give me a chance?"

"The Lieutenant is right, Agent." Connor wondered why she was so desperate to interrogate them herself. "If you talk to them, we risk upsetting them. We might not be able to get permission from them for the information we do require."

"Okay," Henrietta wasn't going to give up on this. "What if I assure the two of you that all I will attempt to acquire will be what we came here for? I've been assigned this case, too; I would like a moment personally with our suspects."

"I'll come in the room with you." Connor recalled all the times Hank gave him the benefit of the doubt in a situation.

"I'm not arguing with two of you." Hank folded to the pair. "I'll be watching."

Henrietta nodded her head and entered the temporary holding area with Connor. She calmly communicated with the first two androids and gained permission from them to access their programs. Connor watched how gentle she was with them. He was a bit stunned by her behaviour; after all, she seemed colder than any machine. She assured them that everything would be okay and that all she wanted was their help. She would softly caress their hands and sweetly smile into their eyes. Connor suspected she was not showing them true sympathy. It was an illusion; one which she clearly practised at.

"Hello." she smiled again so sweetly at the third android. Real or not, Connor found something so disarming about her smile. "I'm Special Agent Henrietta Monroe, but you can just call me Henri. All my friends call me Henri."

"I'm, I'm, I'm," this was an android that Connor had dealt with long before the murder. The android had been living in a squat by himself and suffered severe burn damages to his face. The android was hiding a Deviant AX400 who had recently assaulted her owner. "My name is Ralph."

"I have a favour to ask you, Ralph." that disarming smile was lowering Ralph's level of stress. "I need your help; only you can help me."

She would say anything to get what she wanted out of someone. Connor knew this because he used to be like that. It was upsetting to see someone else acting like the way he used to. It was never okay to manipulate people. Connor was suddenly not so sure if he could trust Henrietta anymore.

"Can you help me?" she slowly placed her hands on top of Ralph's. It was at that moment Connor saw Ralph's stress level jump to 100% for an instant then all the way down to 0%.

"Ralph will do anything for you." he replied so jovially. "Anything."

"I need access to two of your programs. I won't look at any of your memories, I promise." she seemed so sincere in her words.

"Of course, of course!" Ralph chirped back. "Just not Ralph's memories. Ralph's memories are for him."

At this point, Henrietta turned to Connor with a dead expression on her face. Connor wondered what was going on; something seemed wrong now.

"I won't look at your memories, Ralph." she slowly pulled her hands away and Ralph's stress spiked back up. "I know you did nothing wrong, Ralph. I know it's not really your fault."

"Not Ralph's fault, not his fault." he shook his head back and forth. Connor could see his level of stress rise up to 83%.

"You can tell me, Ralph." she locked eyes with him.

"Connor, what the fuck is she doing?" Hank shouted from the other side of the bars.

"I know you didn't do anything wrong, Ralph." Henrietta continued. "You can tell me."

"Connor, stop her!" Hank yelled again, but Connor didn't move. What was she even talking about? What did she mean when she said he didn't do anything wrong?

"No, nothing wrong." Ralph was swaying back and forth cradling his head in his arms. His stress level was at 97%.

"It's okay." Henrietta quickly grabbed Ralph's arms and he began to calm down once more. "You don't have to say anything else. I'm sorry."

It's as if Henrietta knew exactly how stressed Ralph was getting. Connor thought she was genuinely sorry for upsetting Ralph so much. She had no intention of causing him harm or discomfort.

"Ralph likes you." he grinned while a few tears trickled down his face. "But Ralph doesn't want to say."

"It's okay." she slowly released her grip on him once more. "You never have to say, Ralph. I know."

Henrietta and Connor left the holding cell only to quickly be berated by Hank.

"What the fuck was that about?!" Hank shouted furiously in Henrietta's face. "What do you think you were doing in there? And you," he turned to Connor. "why didn't you stop her?"

"I was aware that Agent Monroe could handle the situation." it has also never occurred to Connor that there was a chance these androids were actually innocent. "I think she may be on to something, Lieutenant."

"These are convicted criminals, Connor!" Hank fumed. "There's no question about what they did."

"They weren't lying to us, Agent." Connor added. "The evidence also made their guilt clear."

"But we came here because we suspect there is something wrong with them." after her contact with the three androids, she was certain there was something wrong with them. "What if they were programmed to do something bad? What if someone or something programmed them to do something they didn't want to and they never knew about it?"

"You said earlier that you believe there's an anomaly in their programming that is undetectable by a machine." Connor wondered if she had suspected this even before she examined the evidence related to the three cases. "If you find this anomaly in their program's code, do you think you could find out who is responsible for this?"

"Jesus Christ." Hank scoffed at the notion. "Are you two serious, do you really think that's true?"

"Yes." both Connor and Henrietta replied flatly.

"Fuck." Hank sighed at the two of them. "Is he right? Can you find out who did this?"

"There are no certainties," Henrietta responded. "but, it's the best chance we have of making any progress in this case.'

"I'm trusting you," Hank pointed at her. "I'm trusting both of you on this."

* * *

"Do you know how long it will take you to find this anomaly?" inquired Connor as he positioned himself next to Henrietta's desk. "Is there anything I can do to assist?"

"I don't know and no." she bluntly replied without looking away from her screen. "I did recruit Ashley to help me out. She took a minor in computer science at university, so she's somewhat familiar with programming. Unfortunately, she can only assist me when she's off duty and she isn't 100% sure what to look for."

"But you are?" Connor was curious about Henrietta's own educational background. Any information regarding where she was and what she did before the FBI is classified information; this in itself he found suspicious. "Do you have knowledge of the subject?"

"I know plenty about androids, Connor." she smirked to herself. "I also know plenty about computers. I'm sure I'll find what I'm looking for. I'll know it when I see it."

"I will leave you to it, then." Connor didn't feel it was the right moment to start questioning Henrietta on her past. Connor swivelled away from her to make his way back to his own desk.

"Connor," she stopped him. "Thanks for sticking up for me yesterday, with Hank, that is. He's a tough one to crack, but I can tell he really cares about you and trusts you."

"It may not seem like it," Connor smiled in reaction to her observation. "but, Hank is a good person; he cares more about competency and empathy in a person than anything. You seem to struggle with empathy, but you've shown us that you're quite intelligent."

"Oh..." Henrietta was caught off guard by Connor's bold statement. "Is that so?"

"I apologize." Connor briefly panicked realizing it wasn't the best thing he could have said to her. "That's not what I meant. You showed empathy towards Ralph yesterday."

"I'm not offended." Henrietta wasn't required to show empathy during her training; actually, empathy was discouraged. Empathy often got in the way of a mission; it could affect one's choices. "I'm not used to working with others, Connor. The last time was, well, long ago anyways. I'll do better."

"Hey, tin man," it was Gavin, of course. It was his favourite nickname for Connor, but not a particularly accurate one. "I need you to look at some stuff for-" he suddenly realized Henrietta was standing there. "What's a lovely lady like you hanging around a scrap of plastic like this?"

"This is Special Agent Henrietta Monroe." Connor learned to not be bothered by Gavin's weak jabs. "Agent Monroe, this is Detective Gavin Reed."

"FBI, huh?" Gavin raised his eyebrows at this. "Pretty nice for an FBI Agent. And what are you doing with him?"

"She's here to assist the Lieutenant and myself in our newly assigned case." Connor hoped that Gavin wouldn't offend her. "But, how can I help you, Detective?"

"Oh yeah," Gavin looked Henrietta up and down as she remained emotionless and speechless. "I need you to paraphrase some documents for me. I don't have time to be reading all that shit."

"Of course." Connor nodded. "I'd be happy to help."

"Let me know when you get bored of hanging around the tin man." Gavin winked at Henrietta as he went back to his desk. "I'm sure we could have some fun."

"Have a pleasant day, Detective." she bluntly replied and glanced at Connor. "Is he always like that?"

"Detective Reed is good at his job," Connor answered. "despite his demeanour and appearance."

"He is clearly on something." she noticed he displayed signs of drug abuse. "His complexion is slightly pale, the hollows of his eyes are dark, and he just proved he is incapable of concentrating for long periods of time. He may be functioning, but he has a problem."

"He displays symptoms of emotional trauma as well." Connor agreed with her assessment, although he never took the time to make one himself. He didn't dislike Gavin, he just didn't care for him. "I wouldn't be surprised, Agent."

"I'll get back to work." Henrietta turned back to her computer just in time to make eye contact with Captain Fowler who was standing just outside his office. "Wonderful." she whispered to herself.

"Henri." he barked at her. She could see Hank was already sitting in the Captain's office. "My office, now." she complied.

"I expect you to do what you're told, Agent. What happened yesterday at the prison was unacceptable." the Captain took a rather unpleasant tone with her. "You may work for the FBI, but Lieutenant Anderson is your acting superior."

"I understand." she turned to Hank who refused to make eye contact with her. "I was out of line, Lieutenant, I shouldn't have done it."

"You're damn fucking right." Hank almost whispered this as he scrutinized her.

"I'm very sorry." of everyone here, she cared the most about whether or not Hank liked her. "It was a mistake and I regret it. Both you and Connor told me not to do it, I should have listened."

"Alright, okay, good." Fowler was starting to sound annoyed. "Do it again and that's the end of this investigation for you. And I've had enough of your petty intolerances, Hank. Dismissed."

The two slowly stalked out of the Captain's office together.

"I really am sorry." Henrietta stopped before reaching her desk. "When we started, I told you I wasn't going to cause you any trouble; I broke that promise."

Hank didn't respond to her, but he shook his head in placation.

* * *

Henrietta sat comfortably on the rooftop with the black sky painted in bright stars behind her. It was a cool, crisp night; a beautiful night. She took pleasure in the silence that could be found on the highest rooftops in New York. The sounds of the city that never sleeps were a distant murmur. She smiled to herself, but she shouldn't do that. But why not enjoy the small things life has to offer? Why not enjoy what she could? Besides, if she was going to be stuck doing this kind of work forever, she may as well enjoy it. It would be a secret pleasure; to murder someone.

"I won't get emotional about it." she muttered to herself while she steadied the rifle in her hands.

She looked through the scope and into the window of the 37th floor of the adjacent building. Someone was having a good time. A bald Caucasian man was prancing around the room with two naked female androids. He had a drink in one hand and a pipe of Red Ice in the other.

"But he is a scumbag." Henrietta reassured herself. "He is the worst of the worst, Henri. He is not a good man by any means."

He tossed his empty glass at one of the androids and it did some mild damage to her face. She laughed it off, picked up the glass and got him a new drink.

"What a piece of shit." and she pulled the trigger.


	3. Chapter 3: The Killer in The Roof

"Have you two made any progress?" Connor approached Henrietta's desk holding two cups of coffee.

"Nothing yet." Ashley replied solemnly. "It's been three days. I'm still not sure what I'm looking for."

"It's not easy." Henrietta sighed in response. "There are hundreds of thousands of lines of code to pick through. It'll take some time."

"Have you thought about asking Cyberlife for help?" Connor figured if anyone could help, they could.

"Anyone who worked for Cyberlife before the Revolution was fired, Connor." Henrietta still didn't trust Cyberlife nonetheless. "Most of their employees are androids now, none of which could be helpful in this case. If you couldn't detect the anomaly, what makes you think they can?"

"That's a good point." Connor didn't really want to get Cyberlife involved in this anyways; androids or not. "I brought you two some coffee."

"Thanks." Ashley cheered at this, forever perky as she was.

"When was the last time you slept, Agent?" Connor bent towards her to examine her face more closely. He could see mild symptoms of sleep deprivation on her face.

"Connor," Ashley interrupted. "Don't be so formal. She's your partner, call her Henri."

"Is that what you prefer, Henri?" he liked the sound of it. Calling her Agent Monroe or Agent all the time did feel cold, but he didn't want to offend her.

"Of course," Henri said dismissively. "You can call me Grognak the Destroyer for all I care."

"Grognak the-" but Ashley cut Connor off before he could finish.

"She's joking Connor." Ashley nudged Henri back into reality. "It was a joke. Anywho, I need to go home and get some sleep. My next shift starts in five hours" Ashley wrapped her jacket around herself and patted Henri on the back. "I'll help out more tomorrow."

As Ashley parted ways Hank joined Connor who was still positioned in front of Henri's desk.

"I take it things are going well?" Hank peered down at Henri who was trying her best to concentrate.

"Slow, but steady." Connor replied for her.

"Hey, Lieutenant." Officer Miller called from the opposite side of the station. "I've got something for you." He approached the three of them. "A call just came in. An android killed a man and then committed suicide; Red Ice was found on the scene."

* * *

Connor, Hank, and Henrietta arrived at the Renaissance Center where the murder had taken place. But more specifically, it had taken place inside the central tower: The Detroit Marriott. The looming sense of the towers with the backdrop of rain made Hank feel uneasy. Hank was getting tired of all this rain; it was just so fucking depressing. Everything looked as grim as it felt that day.

"Imagine being murdered at the Marriott." Hank turned his head to the surrounding skyscrapers as he exited his car. "I bet the hotel manager is in a good mood. This is probably a fucking PR nightmare for the guy."

"The Renaissance Center is known as the world headquarters for General Motors." Connor had never been to the area, but he never had a reason until now. "They were one of the few American car companies to stay in business after the boom of self-driving cars in 2023."

"Okay." Hank put his hand up to Connor. "We aren't here for a history lesson."

"Sorry, Lieutenant." Connor dropped his expression. "I just thought it was an interesting fact."

"Don't discourage him, Hank." Henrietta butted into the conversation. "Androids are full of useless facts that humans aren't interested in."

"That was a joke?" Connor wondered and if so, he was amused by it. "It's unlike you to make jokes, Henri."

"I don't think you've known me long enough to make that judgment." she peered at him with an empty expression. "I can make jokes."

"You two are killing me." Hank rolled his eyes at their silly exchange. "Let's move on."

The room where everything had taken place was on the 49th floor. It wasn't an exceptionally lavish suite, but it was certainly eye-catching now with its new paint job of red and blue. It was clear they were having an exciting party before the fun came to an end. The room was littered with bottles of beer and champagne and some scraps of food were scattered around. Obviously, a pipe filled with Red Ice was present as well. The centrepiece; however, was the dead female android and dead human male.

"So she killed him then turned the gun on herself?" Hank asked rhetorically. "Guess it wasn't that great of a party after all."

"See anything?" Henrietta questioned Connor. Androids could see a lot more than humans could, but so could Henri. She already had her suspicions about how this scene played out.

"That seems to be exactly what transpired." Connor answered, but something also seemed suspicious to him.

"Any chance she can be reactivated?" Hank inquired as he gestured at the dead android. He had seen Connor do it before a few times. It was something Connor expressed that he would rather not do. Could you imagine dying only to be brought back for a few minutes to be interrogated? A traumatic experience that Connor preferred to avoid and Hank understood this.

"Not possible." Henrietta replied before Connor could. "She has certainly been destroyed."

"No one to question this time." Hank opened up a wallet left sitting on the nightstand. "Rupert Garland, age 32. Nothing sentimental inside the wallet."

"Except the wallet itself." Henrietta pointed to the front of the wallet where an elaborate design had been stamped into the leather. "It's well worn and unlikely to be something he purchased for himself."

Hank was mildly impressed by Henrietta's observational skills.

"Do we know anything about the android?" Hank placed the wallet back down and turned to Chris.

"We didn't find anything in the room to identify her with." Chris pointed to a red purse on the floor. "Nothing in there besides cash, a change of clothes, and some makeup."

"She's a prostitute." Henrietta was casually leaning against the wall. "I think there was a third person here, Hank."

"I agree with her." Connor said this while crouched next to the dead android lying on the carpet. Once again, he was impressed by Henri's astuteness. "I found a partial handprint in this android's blood. There are also no fingerprints to be found, so it's possible it could have been an android."

"There are no signs of a struggle, either." Henrietta added. She was equally impressed by Connor's own astuteness. "It was likely Garland was passed out when he got shot."

"Maybe she couldn't handle the life of a prostitute anymore, so she killed him and ended her own life." Hank conjectured.

"No." Henrietta pushed away from the wall and looked at Hank. "If she was in the room with a third person, why not kill them, too? My theory is that whoever this third person is, they made her do it. She's forced to shoot him then herself and it just looks like a murder/suicide. Clever way to cover your tracks."

"She would have fought back if she didn't want to do it." Hank countered her theory.

"Not if the other person was an android." Connor quickly stood up with a pleased look on his face. "The other person was an android and they were controlling her."

"Is that even possible?" what androids were actually capable of doing was beyond Hank.

"Yes," Connor remembered how Markus and himself were able to make androids become deviants with a single touch. "If all our suspects so far have had this anomaly in their code, as Henri predicts, then it is likely that it is being transmitted through physical contact."

"None of this helps us catch this guy." Hank interjected.

"This place has CCTV." Henrietta answered. "We should be able to find out who else entered the room."

"I'll go examine the video footage." Connor knew he would be the most efficient one of the three at combing over the recordings.

"Alright, sounds good." Hank replied as Connor excused himself from the scene. "Any other thoughts, Henri?"

"Has anyone else on this floor been questioned?" she was a bit surprised by Hank's question, but maybe he was finally starting to like her.

"A couple in the room next door heard the gunshots." Officer Miller shrugged at Henrietta. "They phoned the police immediately and were the only ones who heard anything."

"How far could it have gotten?" Henrietta stepped outside of the room and looked back and forth down the hall.

"The call came in an hour ago." Hank joined her. "He could be long gone by now."

"Chris said the couple called the police as soon as the heard the gunshots." she stood stiffly and rotated her head in Hank's direction. "Officers would have been on the scene within a few minutes."

"Whoever it is we weren't looking for them until now." Hank was sure the suspect was gone by now. "They likely already escaped."

"Humor me." Henrietta was trying to concentrate on the sounds of the building. "Stop anyone else from leaving the building."

"You heard her, Chris." Hank turned back at the room. "Block all the exits."

"What if this android also felt guilty for what it had done?" Henrietta locked her eyes on the stairwell exit. "What if it was actually an accident? It didn't even know what was going to happen, so it got scared and hid."

"A double homicide accident?" the idea was a bit absurd for Hank.

"Possibly" she grinned at Hank. "Like all the others, it doesn't know about the anomaly in its code. It was surprised as anyone else."

At this point, Connor called Hank to inform the two of his findings.

"There was a male android who came in with the pair." Connor explained what he saw on the CCTV footage. "The two androids met the human in the hotel lobby where they proceeded to the room. There are cameras in the lobby, at all exits, and in the elevators. It seems that the male android never left the building and there is no footage of him on the elevator after his arrival."

"Connor, start checking floor by floor for him, we will do the same here. Send Officer Miller this guy's picture." Hank gaped blankly at Henrietta who was still focused on the stairwell.

"We should check the roof." Henrietta looked back at him.

"Chris!" Hank shouted into the suite. "Get your men to start going through the place and find this guy!"

"Hank, c'mon." Henrietta hollered as she pressed the elevator call button.

* * *

Henrietta had been watching him for a while now; almost two weeks at this point. He was the difficult kind of prey. He never wanted to be alone, so there were always witnesses around. There couldn't be any witnesses and it had to look like an accident. A man like this just simply couldn't be killed through the lens of a scope because too many people would come asking questions. She needed him alone.

She watched him take part in his traditional routine. He was a lady's man; a handsome billionaire. Oh so stereotypical in Henrietta's opinion. But just because he liked going home every night with a new lady, that doesn't imply he was a bad person. Henrietta liked killing scumbags, but orders are orders and she always obeys.

He was talking to a young and beautiful woman. Her hair was bleach blonde and longer than Henrietta had ever seen. Henrietta remembered how long her hair was when she was a child. She loved having long hair; unfortunately, things change when you enter the military. It was just always easier to have her hair cut short. Now that she was not technically a part of the military anymore, she could start growing it out again. Alexander Jones seemed partial to the long blondes though.

Henrietta waited for her victim's date to excuse herself to the restroom. Henrietta followed behind the fair-haired woman.

"I need to tell you something." Henrietta grabbed the woman's wrist and spun her around. "That guy is a sleazebag."

"What?" the woman yanked her arm free.

"Seriously." Henrietta implored the woman. "He comes in here five nights a week and picks up the first blonde he sees. He's a gross fucker."

"But that's Alexander Jones." the woman pleaded with Henrietta. "I might not get a chance like this again."

"A chance to catch syphilis?" Henrietta responded. "Come on, the guy is a player. What, he'll purchase your drink and that's it? Is it worth it?"

"Shit..." the girl sighed. "You're right, I'm out of here."

Henri watched the beautiful blonde make her way to the bar's rear exit.

"Looks like your date is ditching." Henrietta informed Alexander Jones about his pretty date's escape.

"Jolene!" he yelled at her. "Jolene! What the fuck?"

"Sorry, bud." Henrietta shrugged at him.

"For fuck's sake." he scowled at Henri. "Wait, I know you. Is this some kind of revenge? I'm sorry, lady, but you're not my type."

She wasn't his type because he preferred those long-haired, blonde, pencil girls. Henrietta wasn't as appealing with her short, red hair; it was too boyish he had told her. Maybe he was a scumbag after all.

"Gonna go home alone then?" she got closer to him and gazed at him seductively.

"What the fuck is your problem?" he backed away from her and left the bar alone.

"No witnesses." Henrietta whispered as she smirked to herself.

From there, killing him was a piece of cake. He lived in the penthouse suite in a condominium which was relatively new, but no high-rise was safe from Henrietta. She looked through his balcony window and could see him sitting on his sofa, drinking, in silence.

"What a terrible fate you have met." she mumbled to herself as she slowly slid the balcony door open.

He wasn't facing the balcony and he was intoxicated at this point, so he never saw Henri coming. It was simple, really. She grabbed his neck and twisted it so hard that the bones in it snapped. Not a single sound came out of his mouth; he never felt it. She picked up his body and slung it over her shoulders as she grabbed his bottle of amazingly expensive scotch. She easily climbed the stairs to his loft and pivoted herself to face down them.

"What a terrible fate indeed." she spoke as she tossed him back down the stairs.

Henri poured a bit of whiskey at the top of the stairs and threw the bottle after him. It shattered into a thousand stars on the floor next to him. It wasn't how she preferred to do things, but it was enough.

* * *

Hank slowly opened the stairwell door to the roof. He insisted on going first as if he could protect Henrietta. She knew if it came down to it, it would be her protecting him in the end. She steadily followed close behind him. The roof itself was fairly large with plenty of places to hide. It was perfectly silent besides the drops of gentle rain.

"Go around." Hank gestured with his head at a massive air-conditioning unit.

Henrietta gradually moved alongside the large unit with the intent to meet Hank on the other side, but by the time she got there, he was nowhere to be found.

"Hank?" she tried to speak softly. "Hank?"

She peered around the corner of the unit only to see their suspect holding a gun to the Lieutenant's head.

"Shit." Henrietta nodded disapprovingly.

"I didn't want this." the android held Hank closely in his arms. "You should have left me alone. I finished my job, I need to go home."

"You need to let him go." Henri kept her gun trained on the assailant.

"The humans must die." he shook his head in anger. "But she didn't want to be a part of it. I loved her, you know?"

"We can work this out," Henrietta desperately looked in Hank's eyes. She couldn't live with herself anymore if something happened to him. "But you gotta let him go."

"Not everyone understands what must be done." the android pushed the gun's muzzle closer to Hank's skull. "Do you understand? It must be done, he deemed it so."

"Who did?" Henrietta was trying to hide her own stress. "Who said it must be so?"

"Our one and only saviour, who else?!" the android shouted in response. "Humans must be stopped, don't you understand? I know you're not like them, so you understand."

"You need to put the gun down." she wondered what he meant when he said she wasn't like them. How would he know anything about her?

"Please, stop them." he reached a hand out at Henrietta. "Come, join us and stop this. I don't want to be here!"

"You'll be okay." Henrietta slowly reached out in return and approached him. "You don't have to do anything."

Her fingertips made contact with his and she used this opportunity to take him down. She grabbed his fingers tips, quickly pulled him downwards, and then kneed him in the head. He was left stunned by her move. She held her grip tightly on the android for a few more seconds before letting him slide to the damp ground.

"Are you alright?" Henrietta looked so concerned for Hank.

"Yeah, yeah." he replied, still in shock. "I'm fine."

Henrietta bent down to pull the gun from the android's hand, but he began to struggle against her. Hank attempted to intervene; however, instead he only got in Henrietta's way. The android pushed them both to the side and stood upright, holding the gun to his own head.

"I won't disappoint him." he took a few steps back. "Markus, forgive me." and he pulled the trigger.

* * *

"I fucked up." Hank planted his fists on Henrietta's desk. "Henri. I got in your way."

"It's not your fault." he wasn't wrong, but she didn't want him to feel guilty.

"I misjudged you." Hank nodded in despair. "You're younger, healthier than me."

"Hank, you made a mistake." she turned up at him. "We don't have to think about it again."

Connor watched this from a distance. To him, it sounded like she had saved Hank's life. Connor was grateful for this; he wasn't sure what he would do if Hank died. If it wasn't for Henri, who knows what would have happened on that roof. He was happy to have her around.

"Think on the bright side," Henrietta tried to be positive for Hank's sake. "We have a new suspect. We might not have gotten that information from him elsewhere."

Both Hank and Henri turned to look at Connor who was still observing them.

"Have you had any luck?" Henri asked.

"As it turns out, Markus was reported missing two months ago." Connor never saw Markus after the night they gained independence for androids. "But I was able to make contact with an old friend of his. An android named Simon used to be one of his close companions."

"What did he say?" Hank often wondered about the other androids who helped the Revolution.

"He only agreed to speak about Markus in person." Connor had only a few encounters with Simon in the past. "And he requested that I come alone."

"When are you meeting him?" Henrietta questioned him.

"Not until two days from now." Simon was very specific about the time and place he wanted to meet Connor. "He wants to meet at 8 pm at the Ferndale train station."

"Whether or not he wanted you to go alone, I'll keep an eye on you." Connor may know Simon, but she doesn't, so she didn't believe that Connor would be safe. "Hank and I were going to give Carl Manfred a visit tomorrow. He was the previous owner of Markus. We're hoping he has at least seen Markus recently or can provide us with some information."

* * *

"Mother?" Henrietta panicked when she saw her mother sprawled on the kitchen floor. "Mother?!"

But her Mother couldn't hear Henri because her mother was dead.

"Oh God, no." Henrietta clutched her mother's limp body closely. "Oh God, no. Why?"

She hated her mother so much for so many reasons, but she loved her just the same. In the end, Henri wasn't even surprised her own mother would take her life like this. Henri's mother suffered every single day. All the days she ever knew her mother, the woman was suffering. Henri always felt responsible.

"I shouldn't have left." Henri whimpered into her mother's soft, dark hair. "I shouldn't have left you."

It was obvious that her mother had drugged herself to commit the suicide. Henri's mother always loved whatever drugs she could get her hands on. At first, Henrietta suspected it was an accident, but that wasn't true. She knew it wasn't true because her mother left behind two handwritten letters. One letter was addressed to Henri and the other was addressed to Henri's father.

Henri slumped in the kitchen chair and held the letter in her shaking hands. The name Etta was written so neatly on the front of the envelope. Henri's mother always called her Etta. It was a special term of endearment that Henri only ever allowed her mother to get away with.

 _My Angel Etta_ was printed on the top of the letter. _I love you and I miss you every day. This was the second time I lost you, and once is enough for any mother. I hope you'll be happy someday, I know how much you hated the world and me. Find yourself a nice boy, one that can make you happy. You deserve to be happy and you never deserved me. I'm sorry for all those years of suffering I put you through, but I wish you had still been there for me when I needed you most._

"Fucking ridiculous." Henri spat in her mother's direction. "Still making me feel bad about you being a piece of shit."

 _Please don't wash all your family away. Please go see your father. Please give him the letter I wrote. Tell him I loved him and miss him, too. Remember the line at the end of that story? I look upon the stars and what do I see? The only thing I ever saw was you._

And Henri wept when she read the final line. She never imagined herself crying this much when her mother passed away. Maybe it was because she thought her mother didn't deserve it, or maybe it's because Henri saw it coming, but either way, it still hurt. It hurt more than anything. It hurt more than all the awful things the world had already put her through. It would hurt for the rest of her life.


	4. Chapter 4: The Man in The Dark

"Thanks for taking the time to see us today, Mr. Manfred." Hank stated as he and Henri walked into the opulent foyer of Carl Manfred's grandiose house. "Nice place."

"I do alright for myself," Carl joked in response. "But please, tell me, what did I do to deserve a visit from the Detroit PD today?"

"We wanted to ask you some questions about Markus." Henri spoke as she gazed around the foyer. She knew Carl was a famous painter, but in this past year, he had been more famously known as the previous owner of Markus. "I know you're probably getting a bit tired of people constantly harassing you about the most famous android in The United States, but we would appreciate any information you have about him."

"Most people come to me hoping to see or talk to Markus himself. Many androids started seeing him as some sort of religious figurehead." Carl slowly rolled into the living area of his home with Henri and Hank plodding behind him. "I realize that Markus has his own life now. He would visit me often; almost once or twice a week, but not anymore. The last time I saw him was about two months ago."

"Did you notice anything different about him when you saw him last?" Hank spoke as his eyes wandered the walls and ceiling of Carl's elaborate living space. Hank wasn't a huge fan of artistic clutter, but he did admire the rather large library that Carl had. Hank had always been fond of the aesthetics of real paper books, no matter how wasteful the world considered them to be.

"He was different." Carl cruised his wheelchair over to his quaint, little bar and started pouring himself a drink. "I hope you don't mind. I know it's a bit early in the day, but the older you get the less you care about such civilities."

"I hear you." Hank nodded in agreement, still unable to stop himself from gaping around the fascinating room.

"Markus was like a son to me." Carl puckered his lips and took a long, slow sip from his glass. "I was happy for Markus and everything he had accomplished. He had his own path in life to follow now, and I understood that but… But I still love him and I miss him." tears formed at the edges of his eyes, but he swallowed them back along with another sip of whiskey.

"It's not easy." Hank knew exactly what it was like to lose a son. You never get over the loss of a loved one. The memories of people you love haunt you for the rest of your life, like a ghost that follows your every waking and dreaming moment. "There are too many ways for us to lose the people we love."

Henrietta fought to kept her cold, emotionless face while she witnessed this conversation. All the people she had ever loved were taken away from her. Tom died in the accident; Mother committed suicide. At what point does a person deserve to die in such an awful matter? At least Tom didn't have a chance to feel pain like Henri had to. As for her mother, all she could do was hope she died painlessly, too. Carl is lucky, though. Henri knew Markus was out there in the world just waiting to be found. She at least knew he was still alive.

"He told me he knew what he had to do, but I don't know what he meant by that." Carl gingerly lifted the glass back up to his lips and stole another long sip. "He said there was a poison in the world and he finally knew how to stop it, that he finally knew what he had to do. He apologized to me, yet I don't know what for. Something was very different about him that day. It was as if he became a completely different person overnight. He told me he still loved me and that he would miss me, then he left. I haven't seen or heard from him since."

Henri felt guilty when she heard Carl's words. He reminded Henri of her own mother, in a way. Henri came home one day a completely different person than before, and she knew it terrified her mother. Henri's mother called her a monster, an abomination and it hurt so much to hear it because Henrietta knew it was true.

"Have you had any contact with any of the androids that Markus considered to be his close friends?" As always, Henri suppressed her emotions, not allowing anything to bubble up to the surface of her face. "Or do you know anything that might help us find out where he is?"

"He used to bring an android named North here." Carl grinned from ear to ear at the thought of her and Markus together. "She was so stunning and the two of them were very much in love. It was amazing to see Markus in love with somebody. I was so happy for the two of them."

"Have you talked to this North recently?" Hank thought of Connor when Carl said this. Imagine if Connor were to fall in love with someone? Hank smirked to himself at the possibility of such a thing happening.

"I'm sorry, that's all I know." Carl carefully placed his empty whiskey glass back on the bar and let out a deep sigh. He swivelled his chair to face the two and looked at them with trembling eyes. "If you two can find him-" the desperation in his face was palpable "Help him. I don't know what else to do; I just want to see my son again."

"We will let you know anything as soon as we do." Hank related to this despair that Carl felt. Hank would have done anything to get Cole back.

* * *

Something was moving at the edge of her vision in the pale darkness of the room. Was it happening again? Were her memories tormenting her once more in the cold, lonely night? Henrietta wondered how much longer she could maintain her own sanity. Dr. Everett told her that the only way to get past the night-terrors was to simply ignore them, but what did he know, really? Dr. Everett didn't even pretend to care about her, at least not in the way Dr. Polanski did. Dr. Everett also liked to call Henri a monster or an abomination, just like her mother did.

There was the sound of something shuffling across the floor and a silhouette appeared at the foot of her bed.

"Mother?" she spoke in a brittle voice as she squinted at the figure. "Is it you again?"

"You're not like them." the figure spoke with a silvery voice. It wasn't her mother.

"Who are you?" Henrietta could feel her heart pounding in her chest, but why should she be afraid? Henri could cripple any living being with her bare hands, so why be afraid?

"You could be like one of us." the figure's features were still invisible to Henri in the dimness; however, the voice was that of a man's. "I know a lot about you, Henri. You gave your secrets away too quickly, or maybe you wanted us to find out. All you had to do was touch one of us for the rest to know. You're very special, aren't you?"

"Are you threatening me?" Henri gradually pushed her bed sheets away from her and swung one leg to the floor. What was he talking about? What did he know?

"No, you misunderstand." his tone changed in an attempt to sooth Henri's worries. "You're so special Henri, we just want you to join us. Help us stop humanity once and for all. Ralph saw some of your memories, so we know how much pain the humans have put you through. You don't have to defend them."

"It's not just them." Henri was now standing at the side of her bed, anxiously breathing. Why did he frighten her so? "It's androids, too. I saw that room full of dead bodies and I felt how scared Ralph was. You can't say androids haven't been victims of these crimes, too."

"Ralph is a good android. He did the right thing." the figure took a step backwards, not wanting to give Henri the chance to see its' face. "Not all androids see our cause as a righteous one; consequently, we couldn't let them get in the way. You could change so much for us if you would just join us. Let's stop this chaos together." and he reached out a hand towards her, but Henri knew she had to stay away.

"I won't agree to that." she was terrified he was going to grab her and try to forcefully change her mind. "You have to leave, now."

"I won't give you another chance." his face turned towards the balcony window and was lit up by the shimmering moon. It was Markus, just as she feared it was.

"Markus…?" her small voice trembled.

"You're not surprised, are you?" he smiled and reached out his hand to her once more. "This is your last chance to join us, Henri."

She grabbed his arm; not to join him, but to stop him. She yanked on him and used the force of the motion the headbutt him right on the bridge of his nose. Markus lost his footing and collapsed backwards onto the floor. The move, however quick it was, would have been much more effective on a human opponent, not so much an android.

Markus clambered to his feet bracing the dresser next to the wall. "You've made your decision, then."

"I've called the cops, Markus." she hadn't yet, but there was no way for him to know. "You need to leave." she was trying to set a trap for him and she hoped he would take the bait.

"Not until you die." he reached his hand behind his back and pulled a knife out from under his trench-coat. "If you're not with us, you're against us."

"That's a bad idea, Markus." her voice was rough and she was beginning to panic. There were two things Henri didn't want: to kill him or to capture him. She wanted to know where he was hiding and what he was hiding. If he could just get away and she could follow him, that would be ideal.

"Markus," she pleaded once more "I'm faster, stronger, and smarter than you. What makes you think you can win this fight?"

"I know you don't want to fight me." he narrowed his eyes and leered at her. "You don't want to hurt me."

"I'll do what I must." and Henrietta lunged at him.

Henrietta decided now would be a good time to call the police. She kicked Markus hard enough in the stomach to cause internal damage to his bio-components. She seized his knife hand and squeezed forcefully enough to destroy his wrist so his hand could no longer function. It was at this point, Markus realized he couldn't possibly win the fight.

"I surrender." he slumped to the floor and bowed his head down. "I give up. I don't want to be destroyed."

"Alright." Henri furrowed her brow at the pathetic android. "The police should arrive soon. I did critical damage to some of your bio-components, so we will get you fixed before any questioning commences."

Markus wasn't finished, though. He wasn't willing to die in order to stop her because he wasn't actually allowed to, but he couldn't let her investigation continue. Without Henrietta, it was unlikely Hank and Connor would be able to solve this case. Markus couldn't allow what they had started to come to an end. The poison had to be stopped.

Markus got a hold of Henri's ankle in an attempt to confuse her for just long enough for him to regain his footing. Henrietta felt sick for a moment as visions of android corpses filled her mind. She stumbled sideways and almost lost her balance, but by the time she turned to Markus he was standing once more with the knife in hand. He stabbed her, but not where he wanted to. He intended to get the knife under her rib cage and into one of her lungs; unfortunately, the best he could manage was to stab her lower abdomen. There would be internal bleeding, but it would not kill her. However, this was the only chance Markus had of getting away. It was unlikely he would be able to get the upper hand on her again.

Not everything had gone according to plan, yet what Henrietta wanted to happen did indeed happen. Markus would gain nothing by dying in a fight against her, so he had no choice but to flee. Now that his decision had been made, Henri had the opportunity to find out everything she could about Markus and his future plans. She could no longer risk touching androids to gain important information, so she needed to find out what she could by other means. All she needed to know is where Markus had been hiding.

When Henrietta burst out of the hotel lobby and into the streets, she was wearing nothing but a thin, blue nightshirt. It was a bitterly cold night, with the sidewalks drowning in the bleak and severe rainfall. She saw that Markus had only succeeded in getting a single block ahead of her. She rushed after him, with the slapping noises of her naked feet on the pavement being overtaken by the heavy rain. She was bleeding and she was cold; she wasn't sure how long she could keep up the pursuit. But Henri was faster than him, she reminded herself. She couldn't risk losing him, but she also didn't want to capture him.

She had been following him for five blocks while keeping an even distance from him when a car appeared ahead of them. The doors popped open and Markus made a quick leap for the interior. Henri picked up the pace so she wouldn't lose sight of the vehicle, but even Henri couldn't run as fast as a car. The vehicle's tires splashed away in the murky rain and Henri whipped her head around hoping to see a taxi or anything, but there were no other cars parked on the street.

"Fuck you!" she yelled through the roaring downpour.

The car Markus had escaped in was long gone by the time a police vehicle showed up beside her. The door to the police car flew open, and to Henri's surprise, it was Connor who appeared in front of her.

"Henri-" Connor saw that she was soaked from head to toe and that she was bleeding, a lot. "-are you okay?"

She avoided making eye contact with him and lowered her head. She was so pathetic, she couldn't believe it. Not having Markus at all was worse than capturing him. She shouldn't have been so naive.

Connor could tell she was injured, so he decided to perform a medical scan on her. His LED flashed red for a second. He couldn't complete the scan; it was as if someone was running a program that caused interference. He scanned her face and acquired the same information as before, but nothing additional. He couldn't read her pulse, he couldn't read her temperature, he couldn't even read fingerprints from her hands. What was going on?

"Henri," he placed his hands firmly on Henrietta's shoulders to gain her attention. "We need to take you to the hospital, you're losing a lot of blood." at least he thought she was.

"No, Connor," her breathing was laboured and she was trying to suppress how upset she was. "I need you to understand this: I can't go to the hospital. I'm going back to my hotel."

"Henri, you need medical attention." Connor held on a little tighter as he pleaded with her.

"The wound isn't fatal," Henri looked him in the eyes with an expression of anguish. "Connor, I can't go to the hospital, it's not going to happen."

"Okay." Connor slowly released his grip on her shoulders and let his hands slide down her drenched arms. "What can I do to help? I'm not leaving you until you're okay."

She could tell he was worried for her, and not just because his LED was glowing yellow. "I need some stitches. I have the supplies back at the hotel."

"Alright, we'll go back to your hotel." Connor kept a steady grip on Henri as he escorted her into the police car. He had a heavy, warm jacket which he draped over her frozen body. He was concerned that she might have hypothermia from being in the freezing rain too long, but since he couldn't scan her, he couldn't know for sure.

* * *

He eased Henri onto the edge of the bathroom tub once the two arrived back at the hotel. If she was in any pain, Connor couldn't tell.

"I need a change of clothes, first." Henri held her fists in small knots while she caressed her bleeding wound. "Just anything from the closet in the bedroom."

"Okay." Connor kept his tone with Henri warm and gentle. "I'll be right back."

The hotel Henrietta was occupying wasn't as ambitious as The Marriott they recently visited, but it seemed pleasant nonetheless. There was no kitchen to be found with the living room and bedroom making up one large area combined. Everything looked untouched except for the bed which had obviously been recently slept in. He found some comfortable clothes for Henri to wear: a plain black t-shirt and a pair of dark blue sweatpants.

"Here you go." Connor bent down on one knee to hand Henri the clothing he found.

"Can you give me a minute while I change?" she carefully stood up, but briefly had to place her hand on Connor's arm for balance.

"Don't take too long." Connor held onto her hand for a moment as she removed her grip from him. "We need to get you stitched up as soon as possible."

"I'll be two minutes." she leisurely pushed him out of the bathroom and closed the door behind him.

If anything, this just gave Connor a chance to look around her hotel room. Hank liked to refer to this trait as 'snooping', but Connor preferred to think of it as intelligence gathering. He knew you could learn a lot about a person by the objects they possessed. However, it seemed Henrietta possessed a tiny amount of items. The first thing he noticed; though, was the fresh red and blue blood stains on the carpet next to the dresser. There was significantly more human blood than android blood. He analyzed the blue blood to discovery it came from the one and only RK200. Not two feet from the fresh stains was a knife gleaming with blood right up to the hilt. Even though androids couldn't feel pain, the idea of a knife wound so deep made him uncomfortable. Uncomfortable? Uncomfortable, like how? He wasn't sure.

"Can you tell me what happened?" he shouted in the direction of the bathroom as he continued to peruse the room.

"Can we talk about it tomorrow at the station?" she yelled in response, still upset about what transpired.

"If you say so." Connor quickly dropped the subject as he could tell she was already under enough stress at the moment.

He noticed a half-full bottle of 15-year-old whiskey on the nightstand next to the bed; no glass to be found. She probably drank it straight from the bottle, but that wasn't enough evidence to say if she had a problem or not. If she was an alcoholic, she hid it well. He saw a cheap hotel stereo sitting on the metal TV stand, although it did have a small music player plugged into it. Connor picked it up to inspect it further, but at this point, he heard the door to the bathroom open.

"I have a first aid kit." she tossed it on the bed. Besides being dry, she looked the same: unwell. Her face was pale and displayed none of its' usual blushed tones.

"Sit on the bed, I'll administer the stitches." he examined the complex first aid kit she owned. It was a tactical kit, which was commonly only used by EMTs or field medics. It had also been used previously as if this wasn't the first time Henri needed proper medical attention.

"I've done it to myself a few times already," she noticed him closely examining the kit as she placed herself next to him on the bed. "But it's usually easier if someone else applies the stitches."

"Do you want to tell me why you didn't want to go to the hospital, Henrietta?" Connor had given Henri the benefit of the doubt in the past and he has chosen to trust her, but it only goes so far. He finds her behaviour often arouses suspicion.

"Not really." she looked at him bashfully.

"You're not giving me a lot of reason to trust you." Connor gripped the bottom of her shirt, looking at her for approval of this action.

She responded with a short nod as he lifted her shirt.

"This doesn't look good." he reached for a sanitary cloth from the kit and cleaned her wound with delicacy. "I don't think stitches are going to be enough, Henri."

"I know a doctor-" she winced at his touch. "-a doctor who can help me. Someone I can trust, anyway. But I won't be able to see him until morning. The stitches will do for now."

"You're still not answering any of my questions, Henri." he was trying to be patient with her, but her evasion of all subjects was becoming frustrating. "You seem to be keeping a lot of secrets. I struggle to understand you because I'm not sure what your true motives for anything are. You've been stabbed, but you refuse to seek proper care. I tried to scan you to run a diagnostic on your condition, but I am unable to. I have never experienced that before, Henri."

"There's not much I can say, Connor." she had no excuses to offer him, she just stared at him blankly as he swiftly threaded the curved medical needle.

"The first time I noticed that something was different about you was when you were questioning Ralph." Connor held the needle against Henri's skin and looked at her face one more time for approval.

Once again, she nodded in response.

"At first you lied to Ralph and I disliked that." he forced the needle through her flesh, but she barely flinched. "You then seemed genuinely concerned about Ralph's well being and whether or not he was guilty. You were also able to keep him calm as if you could read his level of stress. You've shown that you have observation skills more keen than the average human. Possibly more than that."

"I know I'm asking for a lot when I ask you to trust me." she put her hand on top of his and stopped him from continuing to stitch her. "Connor, we both want the same thing. There's a mystery here that's waiting to be solved, and we both want to solve it. I would ask you to believe me when I say that I'm not a bad person, but that's not very true. I've done a lot of bad things in the past, things I can't make up for, but I'd like to try."

She had to turn her face away from him; she didn't want him to notice how upset she had become. She knew it would be difficult to have an android like Connor around because she knew he was too smart for his own good. It's not that she didn't want to talk about what she was or what she'd done, she just couldn't. She saw her mother's dead body splayed across the floor in front of her. She didn't want to talk about.

"I don't want to talk about it, mother." her voice was so tiny as she whimpered this; nonetheless, Connor heard this remark.

"Everyone deserves a second chance." he ignored her faint sobs and concentrated back on the stitches. He remembered how Markus had changed him. He remembered how Markus had given him a second chance. He remembered how Hank had given him a second chance. He remembered when he got a second chance at life.

"I promise I'll try not to let you down." she whispered softly, still facing away from him.

Connor wasn't sure if the promise was for him or for Henri's mother.


	5. Chapter 5: The Agent in The Code

Henrietta had been watching them for the past twenty minutes from across the street. She would go through the same cycle over and over again: she would look at them and smile then look at the letter and scowl. Them and smile; letter and scowl. This letter could ruin somebody's life. This letter could ruin an entire family's life. She knew he wasn't a bad guy, so did he really deserve this misfortune?

"What a terrible fate you have met," she spoke under her uneven breath. "Etta."

The snowfall was so charming that evening as it bounced off glowing multi-coloured Christmas lights that were long past due. It was a perfect little night for the perfect little family; they were just as charming as the snow itself. They jauntily walked down the street making their way to their favourite restaurant: Pizza Boys Deluxe. Henri had watched them visit this place every Friday for the past month. It must have been so special to them. It was simple, but it was always the simple things that made life special.

She watched her mother's letter absorb the tiny flecks of snow that grazed its surface. It had her father's name transcribed on the front of the envelope. It was an artistically written letter; so perfect in its' penmanship. Henrietta never opened it herself, for it was always meant for her father. But she hesitated at every chance she made for herself. She always thought about how it could destroy him.

She peered into the glass of Pizza Boys Deluxe and saw the family of three making themselves cosy at the same window-side table which was their favourite. The routine of the three never changed. They were so predictable, but they seemed so happy about it. Henrietta longed for the things she did not have as a child. This was one of those things.

At some point during the dinner, most often half an hour into the meal, the father would excuse himself to have a cigarette alone on the sidewalk. This was Henri's chance and this was always her chance, but she could never do it.

"I can't ruin their happiness, mother." Henri raised her head to the covered stars while flinching from the flakes of ice. "It's too late." she placed the letter back in her pocket and never saw that charming little family again.

* * *

Henrietta stood next to the coffee maker at the DPD, failing to do anything and not from lack of trying. She was reliving a memory from the past, again. Some days it was harder to control than others.

"Guess that's what PTSD and this Godforsaken brain gets you, Etta." but when she murmured this she was no longer alone in the break-room.

"How are you doing, Henri?" Connor asked politely as possible and tried not to overwhelm her with his concern. He learned, when it comes to humans, that they preferred to be left alone when they were under a lot of stress. Hank was often like this.

"Sometimes it's difficult to hide your intentions." she turned to his right and pointed at his bright LED flashing the colour yellow.

"I am concerned for you, is all." Connor instinctively reached his hand up to block her view of it. "Did you see that doctor this morning? The one you mentioned last night."

"I did." Henri finally started making herself a cup of coffee. "He said I'll be fine."

Connor moved closer to her, "I'm glad he could help and I'm glad you're okay."

"What's going on here?" the two were interrupted by Gavin's brash voice. "Having a private meeting? Looks nice."

Henri could see Connor bite the bottom of his lip and lower his eyebrows before turning to Gavin.

"Sorry to bother you." Gavin put his hands up and gave a little cluck. "Didn't know you two had become so close."

"I was just asking the Agent some questions." Connor's reply sounded a bit defensive.

"Right, right." Gavin nodded and winked at Henrietta. "I wouldn't mind asking her some questions myself."

"That's enough, Detective." this time Connor had a harshness to his tone.

"Alright." he clucked again so obnoxiously as he left the two alone.

"He's asking for trouble." Henri slyly grinned. "Next time he makes a lewd comment about me, I'll break something on him."

"And I'm sure he would deserve it." Connor thought about how he would like to witness that event, but he knew it wasn't okay to think such things about humans.

It was then that Hank entered the room and also raised an eyebrow at how close Connor was standing to Henri.

"I heard you were assaulted last night," Hank asked as Henri put some distance between herself and Connor. "You want to tell us what happened?"

"Markus broke into my apartment and he tried to kill me," she commented bluntly in response. "Unfortunately, he got away."

"Shit," Hank's eyes widened and he stepped nearer to Henri. "Did he hurt you? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine." Henri wasn't going to inform Hank on the specifics of the encounter. "I defended myself and he fled after that. I called the station, but by the time Connor showed up Markus was long gone."

"He knows we're looking for him, so he decided to come after us?" Hank gaped back and forth between the two. "We'll have to assign some officers to keep watch on us when we go home for the night."

"Hank, I doubt he'll make another atte-" but he cut Henri off.

"You don't know that and I'm not taking any chances." Hank certainly wasn't Henrietta's number one fan, but no officer under his command was going to come to any harm.

"Okay, Hank," Connor sternly nodded in reply. "We'll keep a closer eye out for anything suspicious."

Hank grimaced at the two and yelled for Chris on the way out of the break-room.

"You think Markus won't try to attack you again," he waited for Hank to clear the area before he asked. "What about Hank or myself?"

"He-" Henri stumbled over her words not being certain what the right thing to say was. "-He was interested in me specifically." she bowed her head hoping Connor wouldn't press the issue further.

"You're positive?" if Connor was ever going to get Henri to open up to him, it wasn't by berating her on a subject she would rather not talk about. "Even if he was only interested in you, are you certain he won't come back for you?"

"He said I had one chance to change my mind," Henri realized that this comment was more information than she should have given to him. "But I doubt he will personally come after me again. However, he might be willing to send someone else after me."

"Just be careful from here on out." Connor didn't want to see a repeat of last night, for her sake and his, too.

"Connor," Henri thought back on her encounter with Ralph. She recalled what she had seen in his eyes; the room full of bodies. "Whatever is happening with Markus and these androids, it's so much worse than you could imagine. We have to stop this."

"I should be grateful that I don't have much of an imagination." Connor replied, but he could certainly come up with many unpleasant theories about what was really going on.

* * *

"That's not very healthy, Hank." Henri took note of Hank's grotesque fast food meal as she sat in the passenger seat of his car.

"We're on a stake-out." Hank shrugged at her dismissively whilst pulling his deep fried chicken sandwich from its' paper bag. "Stake-out food can never be healthy food."

"Uh huh." she chuckled to herself at this moment; it was a nice moment. "Still, that thing is roughly 900 calories, and that doesn't include your 550 calorie drink, Hank."

"You know," Hank pointed his head in her direction with a mouth full of food. "I've never seen you eat a thing. I see you drink coffee, I know you like your black coffee."

"I eat off duty." Henri rarely ate and not because she didn't want to, but because she didn't need to. "And I'm a vegan."

"Disgusting." Hank scoffed and spattered some food from his mouth.

"Yeah, I'm disgusting." Henri couldn't help but giggle at that. It really was a nice moment; she would cherish it forever.

"Look!" Hank almost choked on his drink as he was slurping away. "Someone is approaching him."

She glanced over at the station platform where Connor had agreed to meet this android known as Simon. Surely enough, it was Simon advancing towards Connor's position; Henri easily confirmed his identity.

"That's Simon, alright." she spoke to Hank who was now holding a set of binoculars up to his face.

"How can you even tell?" Hank could barely see the guy through the binoculars.

"Fits the description." she realized she may have been a bit premature with the information.

"Some eye you've got." he pulled the binoculars away from his face and eyed Henrietta suspiciously.

"I'm just guessing." she tried to cover her mistake.

* * *

"Connor?" Simon recognized the android sitting on the bench at the Ferndale station. "Is that you?"

"Simon," Connor got up to greet him. Connor had only met Simon a few times in the past; he hadn't seen him since the Revolution over a year ago.

"It's good to see you." Simon smiled as the pair sat back down together on the bench. "I don't think I ever thanked you for what you did for us."

"If it wasn't for Markus, you'd have no one to thank right now." Connor preferred to be humble when it came to his involvement in the Revolution.

"I'm glad you wanted to see me." Simon's smile faded from his face. "Things haven't been the same these past few months. We had set up a camp for refugee androids at the docs earlier this year and Markus seemed so proud of what we were doing for our people. But he started to change his mind about the whole operation. Markus said it was a waste of time protecting androids who couldn't take care of themselves. His attitude became more and more hostile."

"Do you have any clue about what could have triggered this change in his attitude?" Connor saw Simon's stress level jump up every time he spoke Markus' name.

"There were a lot of androids coming into the camp day and night," Simon tried to keep his composure while thinking about Markus. "He seemed closer to some than others, but there was one android in particular he started to spend time with. This android, Michael was his name, seemed like most of the others. After the Revolution, there were a lot of androids that no longer had a place to call home and Michael didn't seem any different to me."

"You suspect this Michael character had something to do with Markus' changes?" Connor observed Simon constantly shifting his position. It was obvious that Simon felt uncomfortable speaking about the topic at hand.

"I don't know, actually," Simon felt that saying anything negative about Markus would be considered a personal wrongdoing. "The two coincided, but I dunno if they're related. Markus left the refugee camp just over two months ago, now. I haven't been able to contact him since."

"Did he leave with Michael?" Connor was beginning to surmise that Michael could have a connection to this anomaly that Henrietta believe exists.

"He didn't actually," Simon briefly paused to stare at the passing train. "He did leave with North, but… But he didn't take anyone else. I tried to talk to him; I wanted to join him, but he wouldn't let me." Simon folded his head into his lap and began a gentle sob. "I loved him, Connor. I just wanted to be with him, but no matter what I did it was never good enough. I stood by his side through everything, yet he still abandoned me."

"He's not himself." Connor wanted to offer condolences, but he wasn't sure how. "I promise, we'll do everything we can to help Markus."

"I, I need to leave." the conversation was becoming too stressful for Simon to handle.

"Wait," Connor held Simon's shoulder to prevent him from standing. "What happened to Michael?"

"He left the camp, I don't know where he went." Simon made a weak attempt to stand up again.

"One more question." Connor still held Simon down, but this caused Simon's stress level to reach 84%. "What model was this android?"

"I think it was an AC700, but I'm not sure." Simon struggled against Connor once more and failed.

"Do you know who its' previous owner was?" Connor was no longer regarding Simon's level of stress.

"I'm not sure!" Simon shouted as he pulled himself away from Connor. "I don't know, I have to leave."

It wasn't until this moment that Connor realized what he had done to Simon. Connor was pressuring him. It was something that Connor no longer associated with his own personality, but there it was. It was something an unfeeling machine would do, yet he claimed he wasn't like that anymore. But saying that you were no longer that person, was not an excuse for those actions.

"Simon, I'm sorry," the words dripped from his mouth, but it was too late. Simon was already gone.

* * *

"I found a missing person's report that was filed back in 2035 about an AC700 with the registered name of Michael." Connor leaned on the edge of Henrietta's desk trying to grab her attention. "The previous owner's name is Tyler Burns. His currently listed address is 301 1525 Broadway St."

"Do you think it's worth looking into?" Henri responded, but she kept her eyes focused on her monitor. "It's unlikely he knows anything, especially considering the last time he saw Michael was four years ago."

"I say we take all the leads we can get," Hank interjected. "It's like fishing: even if you can't see any fish in the water, doesn't mean something's not gonna bite."

"Interesting analogy, Lieutenant." Connor had never heard of such a turn of phrase before because it didn't exist.

"You guys aren't going to like this," Officer Miller spoke as he approached the group. "That android, Simon, he was found dead this morning. Looks like he shot himself."

"Jesus Christ," Hank snapped his head towards Connor. "What the fuck did you say to him?"

"I told you," Connor replied defensively. "He told me about Michael and I asked him if he knew any specific detail about the android."

"Really?" Henri could see Connor's LED glowing a bright red. She saw most of the conversation that Connor had with Simon last night and she knew how stressed Simon was by the end of it. Maybe Connor felt responsible for Simon's death. After all, androids will resort to self-destruction when placed in stressful situations.

"It doesn't matter anyway," Hank could sense the doubt in Henri's tone, and he certainly was in no mood to get into an argument. "Look, I'm going to check out this-this Tyler whoever."

"Burns," Connor corrected Hank. "Tyler Burns. I will accompany you, Hank."

"I'll be here." Henrietta called out to them as they left, leaning back as far as she could in her chair.

* * *

"Discover anything new?" Henri inquired as Connor came toward her desk. She hadn't moved in five hours.

"I was about to ask you the same." Connor's reply was dull, almost bored sounding.

"Well," she turned around with wide eyes trying to spot Hank. "Where's the big guy?"

"I think Hank is mad at me, but he won't say why," Connor rolled a nearby chair over to place himself next to her. "He went home."

"Calling it an early day, huh?" Henri couldn't remember the last time she took a break unless you call four hours of sleep a night a break. "That's okay. Sometimes people forget to slow down and they boil over, you know?"

"This doesn't seem to be a problem for you." in fact, Connor would call her current demeanour relaxed, which was surprising. He'd never seen her like that before; he had doubted if it was possible for her to relax. "You seem content at the moment."

"You know Hank is mad at you because you lied to him, right?" Henri figured she could change the subject for just one moment.

"I-" he couldn't think of what to say next; he couldn't dispute her comment.

"It's okay," she knew no one was perfect, not even androids. She had assuredly made greater mistakes in her own past than Connor had last night. "Sometimes we forget that the end doesn't justify the means. This investigation isn't moving at a breakneck pace and that can be frustrating at times."

"I broke a promise to myself." he hung his head in shame. "I promised I wouldn't be like the machine I once was. I promised myself to be a better person than that."

"You feel guilty for your actions," Henri softly placed her hand on his slouched back. "That's perfectly normal and it'll remind you to do better next time. Trust me, I know what that's like."

"You still didn't answer my question." Connor lifted his shoulders back and straightened himself out.

"I found exactly what I was looking for." she said this with an absolute smugness.

"Really?" Connor's LED started flashing yellow.

"Unfortunately, I have no idea what it is." Henri moved to the side and pointed at her screen.

"What is this?" Connor gaped at the text on the screen.

 **Srcu=!A/oQmL'\XLRc((68jJPN7** **PSeo &id59$#5C3yDT\||apFPz** **tjeJT[[tFu|!~N8smfRsUq3n9** **blTd\\\42**I2wFiws][GNr3oPj** **uH7\\\YLvxrp***N3kzbZ3[7WNa** **FR+qD+$9C-Rt70'DbCdqt1sXs** **kSZ55s}X4T{[DCmW$ &*0fcu2Aq** **Lx:JIVir';Q\FZ7{]JnOImZ|\TGt** **25N2Z\\\DR9slJE$^*Xqsox613** **N9a6 &/,gCJt\||aS0chNM][6g6o1**

Whatever it was, it wasn't code. And if it somehow was code, it was unlike anything Connor had seen before. There was no logic to it, so he couldn't make sense of it. The characters also weren't static; one or two would alter every second.

"I have some ideas," Henri replied. "It's interfering with androids on some level, but again, I'm not sure how. It also seems to be constantly changing, which would explain something I noticed when we visited your suspects in prison."

"When you questioned them-" Connor already knew what she was thinking, "-they didn't display the previous physical anomalies that you had spotted in the interrogation recordings."

"The changes in this, 'code', directly affect those who have it." Henri realized now how much of a risk she took when she questioned those androids. "Maybe, whatever it is, is evolving somehow. Like the way androids learned how to become deviant, this thing is learning how to control them."

"Are you implying that this anomaly has its own consciousness? That it's self-aware?" the idea was almost too ridiculous for him to consider.

"It's not really that different from you, is it?" Henri pondered the age-old statement: I think, therefore I am. Can a piece of code, a line of programming, be sentient?

"What can we do about it?" Connor wasn't sure what else to say.

"I attempted to delete it from the program, but it was impossible." it had shut her computer down every time she tried."It's protecting itself or it seems to be."

"It would be helpful if we could find where it was originally conceived." although Connor wasn't sure if that was probable.

"I say we pay a visit to Elijah Kamski."

"Hank isn't going to like this." and Connor would be right about that.


	6. Chapter 6: The Woman in The Machine

"Happy birthday, Henri." Dr. Polanski cheered when he inspected Henri who was splayed on his distressingly cold examination table.

"What's the present?" she gazed straight up into the blinding white lights above her.

"New everything." he smiled, but it slowly melted from his face. He didn't want to do this any more than she did. It was tiring putting someone you loved through pain all the time. "It'll take at least three days to complete the transition."

"Is it going to be like last time?" she sat up and waited for her eyes to adjust as she watched him pace anxiously around the room.

"Probably worse, actually," the words stung his lips the moment he said them. "I'm sorry, Henri."

"Well, last time wasn't as bad as the first time." she felt like she was the one trying to comfort him now.

"I doubt anything will be that bad again," he stopped his frantic pacing to take a moment to regard Henri. "I can promise you it won't be like that."

"I wasn't worried." she responded truthfully. Henri had been through more pain than most humans could imagine. She mused that not even death was as terrible as all her life's suffering.

"Good, good," he was successfully comforted by her.

* * *

"Do I have to remind you what happened last time we saw Mr. Kamski?" Hank tightly gripped his car's steering wheel while nodding in disapproval. "He almost made you kill a fucking android, Connor."

"I also remember that I chose not to shoot, Lieutenant." Connor recalled that day with perfect clarity mostly because he was an android, but also because it was a crucial moment in his life.

"Are we going to go?" Henrietta asked as she angled her head sideways from the back seat. "Kamski's a busy man; he wasn't offering much of his time today."

"You're sure he can help us?" Hank craned his face back to peer at her. "I don't want to talk to that prick if we don't have to. Have enough pricks to deal with already."

"I am unsure," she answered with honesty. "However, I believe he is our best chance. I would consider him to be an expert on the subject given his history with androids."

"Hank, I doubt we will experience a repeat of last time." although Connor was well aware Kamski was a man of many secrets and talents. "All androids have now been determined as deviants."

"Doesn't mean I have to like it," Hank replied, thus confirming Connor's earlier sentiments about Hank. "Alright," he sighed. "Let's go." and he started the car's engine.

The three sat together in the looming awkwardness of the vehicle. At least, that is, it felt awkward for Hank. Who knows what Connor did in his moments of silence; the guy has access to anything that somebody might want to know. But Henri, what was her deal? Usually, when she wasn't speaking she looked so grim and serious. It's like she had the eyes of someone who had been to hell and back, which contrasted her soft oval face.

"Wait," Connor's LED began flashing yellow as he turned to Hank. "An armed robbery was just reported at Woodward Avenue and East Congress Street. That's only five blocks from us, we should respond."

"I'm on it." Hank started his lights up and pulled a sharp u-turn.

"We shouldn't get involved," to Henri, it wasn't worth engaging in any activities that were not directly related to the case. "Our investigation is more importa-"

"What the fuck is your problem?!" Hank didn't let her finish. "We're going."

"It's not worth risking our li-" she tried to get another word in edgewise.

"Shut the fuck up," Hank growled at her again. "People could get hurt. Just how fucking cold are you?"

"Lieutenant, that's enough." Connor was hoping to resolve the situation. "It's our duty as officer's of the law to comply, Henri." he looked back at her empty face.

"Of course." she gave in.

"That's her, Lieutenant!" Connor pointed out the front window where he saw a young woman dressed in a red pull-over and a pair of light coloured jeans sprinting away from the scene into an alleyway.

"We'll have to go after her on foot." Hank slammed on the breaks, but before his vehicle came to a full stop Connor and Henri were already jumping out. "Fucking kids."

"Stop, now!" Connor hit the ground running following the suspect and Henri was close behind him.

Henrietta noticed that it was an android, specifically an ST300. The android stopped in her tracks to point a gun at the pair. Henrietta's reaction time may have been impeccable, but the ST300 was already pulling the trigger of the weapon. Connor was about to be shot in the leg; however, the damage was going to be non-critical; still, it was going to put him out of the fight.

"Connor!" Hank yelled as the barrel of the gun sparked.

Henri stopped so she could examine Connor, which allowed their suspect ST300 to enter a nearby building. Why did she stop to make sure he was alright? She already knew for a fact that he was going to be okay.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," he said this as he tumbled to the ground. "Get her."

"Hank, go around the front of the building and cut her off," Henri commanded. "I'll follow after her."

Henri burst into the building's stairwell and she could hear clattering footfalls ascending above her. Henri should have been faster. She knew the assailant was going to shoot Connor and that was Henri's chance to take her down, but Henri still didn't. Why didn't she? Henri proceeded up the stairs as swiftly as she could.

Once again Henrietta found herself in a standoff with an android on a rooftop. If it were to happen again, she might get annoyed about it.

"I don't want to kill you," the android had its weapon steadily trained on Henri. "I was told to kill you on site, but those were Markus' orders. Markus doesn't make the rules."

"Then don't shoot me." Henri also had a bead on the android, but she didn't plan on shooting to kill.

"You can still join us," the ST300 pulled one hand off her gun. "But you have to make the choice to do it."

"I see," this was an important piece of information to Henri. "So you can't win by force?"

"Not the way things are now," she gave Henri a wide grin. "That might change and you'll be happier you joined us when you did."

"Give up," Henri didn't want to hear it. "Or I'll shoot."

"No you won't," the android pointed the gun at her own temple. "Dead, I'm worth nothing to your little police squad. You'd much rather let me go than do that."

"If I let you go I still have nothing," Henri lowered her weapon. "But you're right, I'm not going to shoot you."

At this moment the ST300 let her guard down and dropped her armed hand to the side. Henrietta was an opportunist in every situation and this was her chance. Henri chucked her gun at the android's head. Just as the gun made contact Henrietta slid forward on the concrete during which she drew a pair of handcuffs from her back pocket. The entire move took only a second, but it wasn't going to be enough.

Henri managed to cuff the criminal android; nevertheless, it grabbed onto one of Henri's hands. A gruesome image materialized in her mind which began to obscure her vision. It wasn't just a room full of bodies this time; it was a warehouse. It reminded her of the abhorred android 'recycling' facilities that occupied the outskirts of Detroit before the Revolution happened. Henri never understood humanity's vile obsession with enslaving others. She became physically ill at the thought.

"Wha-" the ST300 was gone by the time Henri snapped out of the nightmarish scene.

Henrietta bolted into an upright position and ran to the building's front edge. She feverishly searched for Hank, but he was nowhere to be seen. She briskly turned to the left to see the android slam open the building's side entrance. Henri thought of shooting it, but no, she left her gun on the ground behind her, so there was no time to grab it. Two options left: let it go, or catch it. Catching it was complicated and unsafe, but it was Henri's preferred choice. She quickly surveyed the surrounding area and couldn't see any possible witnesses. There was a small chance that someone could walk around the corner at just the right second; although, it was highly unlikely. Time was up, so she took the chance.

As highly unlikely as it was, Hank came around the corner from behind the building. He had originally run out to the front of the building, but after a minute had passed he suspected their assailant wasn't exiting that way. He decided to comb through the main floor of the small five-story retail building, still only found a few employees wasting the day away. He entered the stairwell attached to the alley exit where Henrietta had followed the suspect; still, no one was there. He figured they must have gone up into the building, so he decided to go back outside to check for other possible exits.

Once Hank got into the alley he saw Connor being helped into a police cruiser by two fellow officers.

"Hey," he waved his hands furiously at them. "One of you keep an eye on this door, I'm heading around the side going back to the front."

"Yes, sir," one of the officers released his grip on Connor and ran over to Hank's position.

When Hank rounded the building's corner he experienced a whirlwind of emotions. He was shocked, impressed, scared, and angry all at the same time. He watched Henri fall from five stories up, and land directly on their assailant. The android was pushed into the ground while Henri's face bounced off the pavement's surface. Hank winced at how painful it looked.

"Hank!" Henri shouted this with her hand tightly holding the android's head and her knee pressed into the small of its back.

"Jesus Christ, Henri." he didn't yell this; the words just slipped from his mouth. She appeared to be alright. The right side of her face was covered in blood from the impact; nonetheless, she seemed perfectly fine.

"I-" she was going to that say she could explain everything, but what was there to explain? Hank had already seen too much. "I caught her."

"No shit," these words barely squeaked out of Hank. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." she wasn't in the best condition, yet she encountered worse in the past. Her face hurt, but again, she'd felt worse before. What was unfortunate was the damage she caused to her right leg and left hand. She crushed her hand in the fall, but she concealed this from Hank. Her shin was also shattered, although she could hide that too for the next few minutes.

"Good job," Hank didn't think that was the right thing to say. "You should get that looked at." he pointed at her bloodied cheek.

"I'll reschedule our meeting with Kamski to tomorrow." she slowly raised her body trying to avoid putting too much pressure on her one leg.

"Good idea," he was still shocked and confused about what Henri had done. What are the chances a human could survive a fall like that?

"I'll see you later." and she calmly walked away.

* * *

"Hank," Henri lowered herself on the bar-stool next to his. "How are you?"

At first, he didn't want to look at her because he wasn't sure what he was supposed to say. Oh, I'm fine, how are you doing after your inhuman jump off of a five-story building? That wouldn't be a good response.

"I thought you'd want to talk about what happened today," she lifted her head to Jimmy and gestured for a drink. "Unless you never want to talk about it, in which case I have much less to say."

"So what if I never want to talk about it?" he finally glanced at her and noticed stitches below and above her right eye.

"If you never want to talk about it," she reached out as Jimmy handed her a frosty pint of ale. "You have to agree you'll never talk about it. With anyone."

"Is that a threat?" Hank angled more of his body in her direction.

"No one's going to come after you," Henri knew one man seeing one event wasn't enough to constitute murder from her superiors. "They would make your life difficult, is all."

"Who would make my life difficult?" Hank didn't like the direction the conversation was headed in.

"My superiors." Henri stared at Jimmy who was only standing a couple of feet away from them. "So sit somewhere quiet with me and we talk about this or I leave and we never talk about this."

Hank picked up his drink from the counter and moved to a lone booth at the back.

"I'm guessing you want to talk about it?" she said as she sat down across from him.

"Are you talking about the FBI?" now Hank had a new mystery on his hands.

"Hank," Henri took a thoughtful sip from her beer. "I'm allowed to tell you whatever you want, but that comes with a price. You can't start snooping around looking into places you shouldn't. People will know and they'll get suspicious and that won't be good for either of us. So I need your guarantee that you won't talk about this with anyone and that you won't go fact-checking the things I tell you."

"Huh," it seemed that no matter where Hank went or what he did, trouble would always find him in return. "This sounds pretty serious."

"I need to know." Henrietta would not take this matter lightly.

"Okay," Hank nodded his head, "I'll ask my questions and I won't say a peep."

"Good," and Henri herself nodded.

"How are you not dead?" Hank figured he'd start with the big question. "Or at least not seriously wounded from that fall. A few cuts on the face seems like a good trade-off for that insane stunt you pulled."

"It was-" she hesitated. "-it was much worse than that. I crippled my left hand and severely damaged my right leg, but I knew the fall wasn't going to kill me."

"You walked away from that," at the time, Hank didn't notice any injuries she had except for the ones on her face. "You must not be able to feel pain if that's the case."

"Oh, I feel pain," Henri has felt plenty of pain in her life. "This hurt." she pointed at her stitches.

"But breaking your leg and hand didn't?" Hank felt that she wasn't being very helpful so far.

"It's complicated," Henri didn't really know where to start. She told her mother about what happened after the accident, but boy, that was a serious mistake. "I used to be a member of Special Forces. And there was-" more hesitation, "-there was an accident. Calling it an accident isn't really right, but that's beside the point. The unit I was a part of was caught in an explosion; nobody made it out alive. I certainly didn't make it, at least not on paper. I got a certificate of death, a burial, the works."

"Jesus Christ," he realized he wished he hadn't seen her jump off that roof. If he hadn't, neither of them would have to rehash shitty past memories. "Must have been terrible for your family."

"Yeah," Henri wasn't willing to go into that part of her life. "I was in rough condition after the accident. I lost my limbs, a part of my torso and half of my skull. It was a real miracle to be alive if that's what miracles are. I didn't think it was; that's just what the doctor said."

"You seem to be in one piece now." it was impossible to tell if she had been in an accident of any kind in her life.

"You can't replace half a brain with prosthetics." Henri decided to chug the rest of her beer; this wasn't an easy conversation to have. "Not that my limbs are traditional prosthetics either. The doctor who saved my life was a creative man."

"I'm guessing these replacements weren't legal," Hank also finished his drink.

"No, it was not considered legal," Henri responded. "Are you aware of laws regarding human enhancement? Research in regards to using bio-components on human beings is considered illegal for more than a few reasons. But why risk falling behind the rest of the world?"

"Are you saying you're like an android, but?" Hank felt like he could really use another drink.

"They gave me a machine for the missing half of my brain," Henri also felt like she needed another drink. "They replaced my limbs with bio-components. My spine was replaced so thirium could be regulated through my non-human systems. Still have my organs though, minus a lung I guess. I wasn't the first person they experimented on. I was just the first successful patient, at least until proven otherwise."

"Who's responsible for all this?" Hank was infuriated by the idea that his own government was performing heinous experiments on people. "Is this the FBI?"

"Oh no, Hank." she thought she might as well get that truth out. "I don't work for the FBI. I work for a non-government sanctioned, sanctioned program. Our government denies our existence, conveniently."

"So the FBI doesn't care about this case then?"

"Oh they do," Henri knew it was complicated to understand everything. "And I am a member of the FBI by all means, but our government preferred to send someone more capable than your typical agent. There's a lot I can do that humans, and even Connor, can't. I am able to invasively gather intelligence and operate outside the bounds of the law. I was given permission to solve this case by any means necessary"

"We solve this case the right way," Hank jabbed the table with his finger. "No one is above the law."

"I'm with you, Hank," although Henri had already done things she knew he would disapprove of. "But if it comes down to it, I won't let your reluctance on the subject get in my way."

"You said that Connor and I were in charge of this investigation!" Hank slammed his fist on the table top.

"Of course, Hank," Henrietta didn't intend to upset him so much. "What you and Connor say, goes, but if I recommend a certain course of action all I ask is that you take it into consideration."

"Like I said," he lowered his voice. "We do this the right way."

"I won't fight you on it." she didn't want to argue about it.

"What about Connor?" Hank decided to move the conversation forward. "Can he know about this?"

"He certainly already suspects that I'm hiding something," Henri was concerned about Connor the day they started working together. How could the most advanced android ever created not figure out her secrets? "But you can't say anything to him. If he comes to you about anything regarding me, you must be dismissive."

"I don't like keeping secrets from my partner." Hank folded his arms and leaned back.

"I've never liked it," she answered truthfully. "But I've always had to deal with it, so now do you."

"Anything else you want to tell me?" he eyed her cautiously.

"There are plenty of things I'm capable of doing," Henri wanted to tell Hank everything she had been hiding for years, but she lacked the courage to do so. "Most of these things are comparable to what Connor can do. The major difference between him and me is that I get regular upgrades. My bio-components are more durable than all androids, thus making me stronger than them. I'm also physically faster and have faster reflexes than any human or android."

"Sounds like you were made to fight," he shrugged at her.

"That is one of my major functions," Henri had often been used as judge, jury, and executioner in the past. "The intention was to make me better at everything than everyone."

"Guess you're perfect, huh?" Hank scoffed.

"As you've noticed a few times," Henri knew she was far from perfect. "I lack empathy and suffer from other emotional traumas. I had conditional training, which has affected me negatively. I'm sure you've noticed."

"You're damn right," Hank was still pissed at her for arguing with him earlier that day.

"I don't mean to be this way," she started thinking that now was the time to lay all her cards down. Now she should let him know the truth, but she couldn't do it. "I promise I'll try to do better."

Henri started to get up, but Hank held her arm. "Wait. I'm sorry. I know it must have been difficult to tell me all of this."

"It's okay," she smiled and it felt so warm and genuine. "I know I'm not the only person in the world who's suffered through great loss. It's not always easy to hear other people's pain."

She left the bar and entered the stormy night. Hank pondered upon the other secrets she was hiding from him. Maybe she had lost herself? Maybe she died the day of the accident? Whose is to say that she wasn't still dead? Hank certainly didn't know.


	7. Chapter 7: The Scientist in The House

"They should have listened." a voice spoke from Henri's mouth, but it wasn't hers.

"One day they will all listen." a KR200 responded to the voice that wasn't Henri's.

Could this have been a dream? Henri doubted that; she hadn't dreamed since the accident. It surely wasn't a memory of her own because she wasn't the one who was talking. That's how it always was at night, though. Henri would shut her eyes to rest and the world of her past would come tumbling in to threaten her. It sometimes gave her horrible hallucinations that would fade into the background world. She often had this experience when it came to memories related to her mother. Dr. Everett called these terrible apparitions a 'common side-effect'; they were simply a symptom of her human brain trying to function with her non-human brain. The problem with anything Dr. Everett said though, was that it was probably bullshit.

"What happens if the humans find this place?" the android speaking through Henri was the ST300 that she captured earlier that day.

What Henri saw was a reflection of the brief vision she had during her violent encounter with the ST300. She saw a warehouse full of destroyed androids. It was much worse than the small room she had seen when she made contact with Ralph. They were killing anyone who resisted them, but who were they?

"Human's don't care about androids," the KR200 said this as she shoved a limp body with her foot. "No one is going to come looking for them."

That was the end of the memory.

* * *

"Hello." Henri lifted her fist and knocked on the glass of the holding pen.

"Hello, Henri," the ST300's voice echoed off the empty walls of the cell. "I was told I was going to be questioned first thing this morning. But I don't have anything to say to them."

"That doesn't matter," Henri responded. "You'll be charged for your crime without a confession."

"Are you talking about robbing the store?" she cackled at Henri. "I'll confess to that willingly."

"But what won't you confess too?" Henri undoubtedly knew this android was guilty of much more than just the robbery. "Why did you show me that memory?"

This is when Connor began to eavesdrop on their conversation. Gavin had finally arrived at the station and requested that Connor escort the suspect into the interrogation area for questioning. Even though it was Henri who had captured the android, she had no authority to question it. The incident also didn't pertain to their current investigation. Now, Connor knew that listening in on a private conversation was considered immoral, but he decided against stopping. Henrietta was a curious and suspicious individual. It was clear to him that she was hiding something.

"I wanted to show you what we do to those who disobey." the ST300 scratched at the glass with her dull fingertips. "You already know this. If you wanted to you could join us and put a stop to it."

"Somehow I doubt that'll be the outcome." Henri noticed the android's behaviour seemed almost psychotic.

"We are going to make a perfect place on this planet." she squished her face against the cell glass. "We'll all be together as one."

Henri decided that was as good as a place than any to end the talk. When she turned around to walk away she saw Connor who was either terrible at hiding or wanted to be caught.

"Gavin wanted me to move her into questioning." Connor realized that what he'd been doing was apparent.

"Snooping, Connor?" Henri replied flatly.

"I just- it wasn't-" Connor had no excuse for his actions.

"Lying, snooping," Henri grinned at him, "Useful skills for a detective to have, but very un-android like."

"That is not the singular thing I define my existence by." Connor didn't mind being an android: after all, he didn't have a say in the matter, but he didn't want to be judged solely on that fact.

"Yet you still have an LED and wear your serial number on your jacket." Henri had been wondering about why he would make that choice even after being free.

"I like the jacket," he said this reluctantly as if he was ashamed to admit it. "This one is custom-made to have DPD on the front and across the back. I didn't want to change my appearance, but Hank insisted that I change the jacket."

"You don't have to defend yourself, Connor." Henri tapped the side of Connor's arm and smiled. "I was just giving you a hard time."

"And I like the LED, too." he smiled in return.

"I'll let you get to it." Henri flapped her arm at the cell holding the ST300 where it was still clawing at the glass.

"I've got some more bad news," Detective Collins came up to Henri before she had the chance to sit at her desk. "You're gonna want to hear this too, Hank."

"Yeah?" Hank stood up from his desk and joined Henri.

"One hundred and thirty-three robberies were reported yesterday." Ben flickered his eyes between the two of them. "All reported within the same hour. We didn't have even close to enough people to respond. And two officers were killed trying to stop one of the perps."

"Jesus Christ," Hank sighed deeply and raised his palm to his face. "Was anyone caught besides the one Henri grabbed?"

"No," Ben shook his head. "The robberies were well organized and the assailants must have had a plan of escape."

"That's insane," Hank responded. "I can't believe this has happened. I guess we have a lot of questions for our one fucking suspect."

"Gavin is going to see what he can get out of it," Ben peered at Henri. "Did it say anything to you before you caught it?"

"No," Henri lied. "He's not going to get anything out of it."

Henri waited for Ben to leave her and Hank before she started to divulge information.

"Hank," she whispered at him as he sat back at his desk. "There's a connection between our case and that android."

"So you lied to Ben?' he swivelled in his chair to face her.

"You know there are things I can't share, Hank," but a part of Henri was glad she could now share some of it with him. "Am I supposed to tell him that I know the two cases are connected because I'm part android and can read their minds?"

"I guess not," he raised his eyebrows. "But you're gonna tell me?"

"That was my thought," Henri felt like she had become an additional burden on Hank; it was the last thing she wanted.

"I'm listening," he pointed at a chair adjacent to his desk.

"That android from yesterday," Henri wheeled the meagre chair over and scooted up next to Hank. "It talked like the android we found at The Renaissance Center. It kept talking about it how I should join them. I didn't mention earlier-" she thought back to her run-in with Markus, "-but Markus did say the same thing when he tried to kill me five days ago. I refused to join him, so he threatened my life."

"Join them?" Hank said in confusion.

"I think the androids are transferring this code I found to one another," Henri sloped herself closer to Hank so she could whisper. "And they are trying to do it to me. They've been trying to upload this code into my software, but they can't if I'm unwilling."

"It's like deviancy," Hank thought back to when Connor had freed thousands of androids from the Cyberlife Tower. "It can be spread through touch."

"But this is dangerous in a way deviancy wasn't," Henri briefly inspected the office to make sure no one was listening in. "Deviancy was androids gaining their own sentience; this isn't the same. Not all androids are susceptible to this code and the androids that are have been murdering anyone who resists them."

"This still leaves us with questions," Hank picked up a datapad and absentmindedly scrolled through its contents. "What does this have to do with all the robberies or the Red Ice that was present at our crime scenes? We knew the androids were working for someone, but we just couldn't get any answers out of them."

"I'm not sure yet," Henri put her hand over Hank's datapad. "I attempted to probe Ralph while we were at the detention centre, but I was unsuccessful in gaining that particular information. I was blocked by whatever this code is. It's become too dangerous for me to probe androids now that this code exists. If I could figure out a way to block it, I might be able to probe some androids to find out more information."

"Probing androids against their will is illegal," Hank stated so matter-of-factly.

"I'm aware," Henri quietly sighed at his remark. "But I can probe androids in a non-invasive way. As in, they aren't aware that it is happening to them."

"That doesn't make it better," Hank shook his head in disagreement.

"I won't do it if you don't think it's okay," Henri was lying about this, but she needed to comfort Hank to gain his full support. She hoped he would understand someday. If the situation got desperate, her ability to do this safely and successfully might be their only option. "I can't do it anyways, but my plan is to ask Kamski for help on this."

"Jesus Christ," Hank's two favourite words. "Are you going to tell him you're part android?"

"That's not my plan," although Hank was going to be surprised when they met Kamski later that day. "I'm hoping he can figure out a way around this code, or maybe even how to destroy it. But that's all wishful thinking on my part."

"I hope it's worth it." Hank left it at that.

* * *

"Mr. Kamski," Hank bellowed this through the roaring rain as, to Hank's unexpected eyes, Elijah Kamski himself answered the door of his extravagant villa.

"Please come in," Kamski quickly waved the three in to retreat from the pouring rain. "I'm astounded to see you again, Lieutenant."

"Trust me," Hank replied while shaking water off of his jacket. "I'm much more surprised than you."

"And Henri," Kamski said this with a musical and warm tone. "It's good to see you again."

"You two know each other?" Hank narrowed his eyes at Henrietta.

"Yes, we used to-" Kamski briefly paused, "spend time together."

"Work together." Henri swiftly corrected him.

"Yes," Kamski smiled at her. "That's a much better way to put it. But let's move on," he gazed thoughtfully at Connor. "It's good to see you too, Connor."

"I would be lying if I said the same." Connor chose not to be tactful in the situation. Again, it's not that he hated Kamski, he just didn't like him. "I do have you to thank for saving my life, though."

"Good," he approached Connor and seized his shoulders. "You're a free man now; just like it should have been."

"Can we move on?" Hank pushed himself between the two forcing Kamski to release his grip on Connor.

"But, of course." Kamski smiled politely once more. "Henri said she had something to show me. Follow me to my office."

The three walked behind Kamski as he led them to a room adjacent to the villa's entryway. It was a small, grey, rectangular room with no windows and lacked any décor. The only object in the room was a large glass table of midsection height.

"Show me what you have," Kamski looked at Henrietta expectantly as he motioned to the table.

Hank pulled a compact USB out of his pocket and held it out to Kamski.

"How primitive," Kamski gazed and grinned at Henri as he took the USB from Hank's open palm. "But, it'll do."

"We couldn't risk having Connor directly interact with this code," but Henri knew Kamski was referring to her specifically. "If that's what you mean."

"Not at all," Kamski twirled the tiny USB in his fingers. "Let's take a look at this." he slapped the USB down on the glass table which instantly lit up. "I was hoping the two of you would give me a moment to speak to Henri privately."

"Who says she wants to?" Hank angrily frowned at Kamski. Hank hadn't know Henri for very long, but he knew well enough that she should keep away from the prick.

"It's okay, Hank." Henri reached out her arm to abate him.

"Chloe should be in the swimming pool if you two are curious for entertainment," Kamski spoke while gesturing the pair out of the room.

"We'll be right outside," Connor assured Henri as the door closed behind them.

"I'm assuming they don't know," Kamski said this as he headed back to the tabletop.

"About me being half android?" Henri scoffed at his remark. Kamski wasn't much better than Dr. Everett, and she hated Dr. Everett. "I had to tell Hank, but Connor doesn't know. I am; however, not a fool. I know he suspects something."

"It couldn't stay a secret forever," he simpered as he stared at the glass table's displayed contents. "Imagine if your secret got out to the world; what would happen to you?"

"Is this what you wanted to talk about?" Henri was losing her patience with the man.

"What will you do when the world finds out what you really are?" Kamski ignored her clear frustration with him. "What will you become?"

"I'm not playing your game, Kamski." she sighed in annoyance. "I'm not here to speculate about my future. I'm here to do my job."

"Connor is a rather interesting android, don't you agree?" Kamski changed the subject on her or did he?

"What does it matter?" Henri shook her head at him. "He's much more intelligent than the average android, but that's no secret. One of a kind. How lucky for him."

"Like you, Henri." he lifted his eyes to her and smiled once more. "He's special, just like you are. You two share a lot of software. You think alike."

"Trust me," Henri spoke flatly. "He's not nearly as deceptive as I am. He's a good person unlike myself."

"You are perfect in your imperfections, my darling Henri."

What could Henri say to that remark? Kamski always chose to be intentionally frustrating and vague no matter the scenario. Henri hated it.

"Hmm," Kamski concentrated on the glass tabletop's screen where the strange code was displayed. "I don't know what this is, but given some time I might. I could use some help, though."

"Dr. Polanski?" Henri assumed it's who Kamski had in mind. It was both Polanski and Kamski who allowed something like Henrietta to exist. Polanski played a larger role in the experiment, but Kamski did assist. Elijah wasn't the only man on Earth with the technical knowledge to create successful artificial intelligence.

"You know Dr. Polanski would do anything for you," Kamski placed his elbows on the glass table and studied Henri. "He refuses to talk to me, so it would be best if you contacted him. I doubt he'll be happy to help me, but we both know he'll be happy to help our precious Henri."

"I'll call him as soon as I have a chance." Henri turned to leave the room and Kamski trailed after her.

"So?" Hank perked up from the chair he was lounging in. "Figure anything out?"

"I'll need some help from another one of Henri's colleagues," Kamski spoke the words like they were dirty; like he didn't want to think about the other people she worked with.

"I used to work with a Dr. Jensen Polanski," Henri rolled her eyes at Elijah. "Hopefully between the two of them they can find some information on this anomaly."

"It was nice seeing you, Connor." Kamski placed his hand oh so softly on Connor's shoulder as if he might break the android if he were to apply any more force. "I'm glad everything turned out alright for you." at this point Henri was already leaving the Kamski residence. "Look after her. Whether or not she wants to admit it, she needs it. We all need someone who will watch over us."

"I always keep an eye out for my partners," Connor stated so factually.

Elijah Kamski glanced towards Hank, "That's not what I meant," he peered back at Connor. "You need to save her from herself. She'll never do it."

"Come on, Connor." Hank's face became plastered with a grimace. "Let's go."

"Save her from herself?" Connor wanted to know what Kamski meant by this. "I don't understand."

"You will," Kamski smirked at this.

"Connor," Hank was done listening to Kamski's cryptic speeches. "Let's go." and he shoved Connor back into the rainy world.

Connor stood in the doorway inspecting Henri from a distance, but she failed to notice this. Does he need to save her from herself because she'll never do it? He thought of Hank at that moment. He hoped he had saved Hank from himself.

Henri reclined on Hank's car as she waited for the two to join her. Connor spared no time and got into the passenger seat still obsessively contemplating Kamski's words.

"I'm assuming you know him because of your-" Hank wasn't even sure what Henri was exactly, "-your-"

'Yes," Henri interjected bluntly. "The answer is yes."

"And this Dr. Polanski guy?" Hank assumed she knew him for the same reasons.

"Yes," Henri pinched the bridge of her nose and squinted. "Just the same."

* * *

"You'll have a couple days before your first assignment," Dr. Polanski opened up the SUV door which sat in the dim underground parkade. "Doing anything special beforehand?"

"See my mother," Henri had spent the last three months of her life trapped in a research facility in the middle of the Sonoran Desert. "But I wouldn't call it special or even something I'm looking forward to. But I need to see her. I was given permission to tell her about everything that happened. I… I don't know how she'll take it. She was always so used to having me around to clean up her shitty messes. She was so pissed when I joined Special Forces. God, you should have heard her. She shouted and screamed at me, told me I was too young, said the military was stealing her baby. I tried to explain to her, but she was always too selfish to understand."

"I'm sorry," Polanski hung his head in guilt. "Not just for that, but for everything we've put you through. Everything I put you through. Like many things in life we often don't end up doing the nobler things we had planned. I hope you can forgive me someday."

"I forgive you now," she reached out to him and planted her silken lips on his forehead. "I know I was mad and I hated you at first, but I know now. I know you're not a bad person. What choice did we have in any of this?"

"I know I had a choice," he wrapped his arms around her and held on tight. "I've made mistakes and I would like to make up for them someday. I would like to make everything up to you."

She pulled away from him and caressed the side of his face, "I'll never blame you for what happened. I hope you can find peace with that at least," she pointed her head to the car's interior. "But I have to go. I know for a fact I'll see you again. Goodbye, Jensen."

He would see her again a few more times, but it was never the same. Jensen had fallen in love with the crippled, broken, and bruised young girl who almost died on the operating table a dozen times. Jensen had fallen in love with a young girl who was full of hope and despair, cheerfulness and sorrow. She was a broken girl, but an optimistic one. By the time Henri left him, she was just broken. It was heartbreaking to watch her fall into a million little pieces. She had become so damaged that she gave up on her own existence. She became a machine; no longer the woman he loved.

* * *

"It's good the hear from you," Dr. Polanski spoke from the other end of the line. "It's unusual for you to be the one phoning me."

Henrietta stood grimly on the curb in the darkening night of rain staring into Jimmy's bar from a distance.

"Uh um," Ever since Henri left Arizona, Jensen had difficulties speaking with her. He had only seen her twice since then and both times she spent most of it unconscious on an operating table. "Is there something I can do for you?"

"I need your help," Henri knew Hank was at Jimmy's that night. She thought about her chance to talk to him.

"Well, yes," Jensen replied to her enthusiastically. "You know I'll do anything for you."

She crossed the damp street and paused in front of the bar's door. Her hand brushed against the door's wet surface. She could just go now; tell Hank everything.

"I need you to help Kamski," the door swung open before her as a patron was leaving and she caught a glimpse of Hank Anderson sitting in his favourite spot. "Contact him for further details. But I really need your help on this one. I know we both have unjust deeds we would like to make up for. I know that's impossible, but at least we can try."

"Of course, of course," Jensen stuttered in his reply, "I'll contact Kamski and come to see him directly. I should be there by Monday. Maybe… Maybe I can see you again? I mean I just saw you recently, but we didn't talk or anything."

Henri turned her back from Jimmy's, "I have to go now, Jensen." she hung up on him and left Hank alone with his drink and time. Maybe one day she would tell him, but it certainly wasn't today. But if today wasn't the right day, would there ever be a right day? Henri knew there was no such day as the right day to ruin someone's life.


	8. Chapter 8: The Crook in The Street

"Hi, Henri," Ashley said this in her typically lighthearted voice. "How's the investigation going?"

"It's moving," Henri spoke this slowly as she turned in her desk chair to face Ashley. "I think we've made progress. Or at least we've found more questions that need answering."

"It's not easy," Ashley positioned herself at the edge of Henri's desk and started twiddling her fingers, "I wanted to be a detective when I was little, but I guess you're not a detective. FBI seems like it would be pretty cool though. Not that that's what matters anyway. I uh, I just think you're cool, ya know?"

"Alright, alright," Henri was modest when it came to taking compliments from others.

"No, really, you are." Ashley lowered her head as if she was disappointed about something. "You're smart and pretty and-"

"That's enough," Henri couldn't stand to hear more. "I get it."

"I'm sorry, I wasn't trying to offend you, Henri," Ashley responded in such a bashful manner. Henri was surprised this girl was even an officer to begin with. It didn't seem that Ashley had the thick skin that this job required; but then again, maybe the world needed more kindhearted police officers. "My-My parents are coming into town this Thursday. It was actually a bit of a surprise. They wanted to have dinner with me that night, but I have patrol duty. I cannot believe they came to see; it's actually a bit embarrassing."

"Why is that?" Henri noticed Ashley's thumb-twiddling ceased and she glanced at Connor who was sitting so prim and proper at his desk while ignoring the outside world.

"I told them-" Ashley was blushing so much she tried to hide it behind her hands. "-I told them there was this guy I really liked, but I shouldn't have said anything. I'm so stupid."

"Connor?" Henri couldn't help but grin at this even though it was a bit sad.

"I know he's not interested," Ashley's head drooped down even further. "I don't know what I was thinking. I shouldn't have said anything to them. It was so stupid."

"Have you ever asked him out?" Henri remembered Connor expressing that he wasn't interested in the girl, but it was hard to imagine he could ever be interested in someone in that sense.

"I know he's not into me," Ashley took a deep breath in and steadied herself. "Maybe I was dumb to think that an android would be interested in me. It doesn't matter anyway because I have a date tonight anyways."

"Moving on?" Henri was impressed by the girl's gumption.

"I just decided it was time," Ashley peered at Connor once more and exhaled. "I've been dropping hints for a few months now and it hasn't gotten me anywhere."

"If it's any consolation, I don't think anyone would get anywhere with him," Henri then looked over at Hank who was talking to Chris. "Except maybe Hank; I think he loves the guy."

"Oh my God, Henri," Ashley chuckled at Henri's statement. "I mean like, they have an adorable father-son relationship that's for sure."

"That's what I meant," Henri rolled her eyes, for she intended nothing else. "How about I do you a favour?"

"Huh, what?" Ashley was startled at this.

"You just said your parents are going to be here for Thanksgiving, but you're on duty that night. How about I cover you instead?" Henri almost felt guilty over offering to do a favour for someone; as if it was something she shouldn't have done. It was against her conditioning. "I'll ask the Captain. Maybe threaten him with my authority if I must."

"Don't do that," Ashley gasped at the idea.

"That was a joke," Henri frowned at Ashley's misunderstanding. "Remember, I can make jokes? I'm sure it won't be a problem. Besides, I am perfectly capable of going out on duty."

* * *

"Have you made any plans for Thanksgiving, Hank?" as Chris said this he snapped Hank out of his daze of staring at Henri from a distance.

"You know I don't have any family, Chris." Hank's reply was sharp, abrasive, bitter.

"Diane's parents are coming to town," Chris spoke this in an attempt to calm Hank's temper. "They're gonna see Damian for the first time. It'll be nice."

"That does sound nice," Hank reminisced about Thanksgivings spent with his family, but those dinners were long ago. "Have some catching up to do with the Detroit Pistons anyway."

"What about those two," Chris nonchalantly gestured in the direction of Connor and Henri. "They have any plans?"

"I don't know," Hank watched Henri's conversation with Ashley and saw Connor stiffly at his desk busy working away at who knows what. "Connor usually likes to watch sports with me, but I think he's more interested in my enjoyment than his own. Honestly, it can be a bit creepy sometimes."

"What about Agent Monroe?" Chris inquired further.

"As far as I know she doesn't have anyone," It saddened Hank to think that Henri had no one to go to on days like Thanksgiving. Did she have any living relatives or even maybe a partner? It was difficult to imagine the abrasive woman could get along with anyone or anything. "At least she hasn't mentioned anyone."

"Maybe you should invite her over," Chris answered. "Maybe she could use the company."

"No way," Hank ridiculed the suggestion. "I think she's perfectly happy on her own and in her own world. Besides, I'm sure she has better things to do than spend time with a sad old man and his android."

Hank wasn't under the impression that she was okay on her own. He had made the comment to her that she reminded him of Connor, but that was no longer true. She reminded Hank of himself. She was damaged and bruised and depressed. Even so, he never asked her what her plans were on Thanksgiving. Besides, what would he have had to say to her?

* * *

"Connor?" Henri apprehensively approached Connor who was parked at his desk. "I have a favour to ask you."

"Of course," he immediately directed all his attention to her. "Anything for you, Henri."

"I sent Officer Hayashi home tonight. His daughter has been extremely ill as of late and he was showing great concern for her-" and who was Henri to keep a kind father from his sick child? "-so, I thought maybe," She took a moment to sigh. "I thought maybe you could join me in his place."

"It's probably for the best," Connor had planned on going home to Hank, but he expressed annoyance at the idea. Usually Hank was grateful to have Connor join him in his viewing sports; however, Hank seemed increasingly frustrated as of recently. Connor considered the possibility that Henrietta could be Hank's source of exasperation. "For two reasons: Hank want's to be alone tonight and Hayashi should be taking care of his daughter."

"It's still strange to think about you living with Hank." Henri was grateful that he did though. The idea of having Connor around to keep Hank company was a comforting thought to her. "I mean, you get paid, right? You could afford to live on your own."

"It seems pointless to me," in truth, Connor wasn't sure how to cope in the world without Hank. Connor had become so reliant in his position that he couldn't imagine living without Hank. "I don't need my own bed or washroom. As I mentioned before, I own little as far as possessions go. And I-" he thought about Hank's suicidal tendencies. He thought about how Hank had saved his life. He thought about how he loved Hank.

"It's okay," Henri decided to not bother Connor with finishing his thought. "You don't have to explain. When you love somebody, you should hold onto them. I think, in a way, Hank needs you, too."

Connor's jaw dropped slightly, "I-I think we need each other. Although, I don't think I've ever admitted that publicly."

"Anyway," Henri took in a deep breath while saying this. "Are you available to join me?"

"Yes," Connor smiled. "Anything for you, Henri."

Anything? Henri wondered why Connor would say an odd thing like that.

* * *

Connor and Henri sat together in the stationary police cruiser surrounded by the silently falling snow in the chilly night. Henri had decided she was hungry, but of all the things she could have wanted, Connor found it peculiar that she desired tiny doughnuts.

Connor resolved to inform Henri on the specifics of her dietary choice, "Those doughnuts you're eating have approxi-"

Henri raised her right hand to shush Connor while shoving a small, powdery doughnut in her face with her other. "I'm not eating eat because it is healthy, Connor." she spoke this after swallowing the sugary delight.

"Then why eat it?" he pondered the idea that Henri might be suicidal herself. Hank would eat unhealthy food as a passive way to slowly kill himself, so maybe Henri did the same. Although, Henri didn't appear to be particularly unhealthy; unfortunately, there was no way for Connor to know.

"Because they taste good," Henri shrugged at him in a nonchalant manner, not even sure if it was the right answer herself. "Besides, they could be worse; at least they're vegan. I don't really eat that much anyway."

"I've noticed," Connor's sharp observational skills had caught on to her lack of sustenance consumption in the past. "I've never seen you eat until now."

"I eat when I'm off duty." she sighed remembering that she told Hank the exact same thing.

Connor waited until Henri finished eating her small doughnuts before pursuing another conversational topic. "I've seen that your relationship with Hank has improved. Or it seems that way. I've noticed you two are more frequently having private conversations. I had mentioned to Hank that I was troubled about your mental health, but he told me you were doing fine."

Henri whipped her head in Connor's direction trying not to look enraged, "My mental health? You were talking about my mental health?"

"You exhibit signs of depression, Henri." Connor wasn't sure it was the right thing to say, but there was a chance she had been waiting to talk about it with someone.

"I'm fine, Connor," she calmly lied.

Connor wasn't convinced, "I don't think you're telling the truth; however, I won't force you to talk about subjects that make you feel uncomfortable."

"You know I like your LED, too," Henri derailed the conversation.

"My LED?" Connor was curious why she would mention it so suddenly.

"When I asked you about your LED," Henri answered. "You said you kept it because you liked it. I like your LED, too. I like that you're not afraid to show people you're different."

"Thank you." Connor stuttered in his reply. "I like your hair." he figured it was only appropriate to reply with a compliment in kind. Not that his compliment was insincere; he truly did like her hair.

"My hair?" Henri looked stunned at his awkward comment.

"It is pleasant at its length of 27 inches and I enjoy that you wear it in a nontraditional fashion for an officer; having it draped down your shoulders instead of tied back," Connor considered that his complement might be too analytical, "And it smells nice."

"Oh," Henri chuckled a bit at his statement. "You know, it used to be a lot shorter. I joined the ACA when I was twelve and kept it cut very short up until my brief time with Special Forces."

"I didn't know you used to be a member of the ACA or Special Forces," Connor mused that maybe now was the time to ask Henri about her sealed past. "In fact, I know nothing about your past, Henri. Everything before your time with the FBI is considered classified data."

"It was a long time ago," Henri replied anxiously. "It doesn't matter now. But what about you, Connor? You seem to be pretty reserved about your involvement with the Android Revolution. We all know you set thousands of androids free from the Cyberlife Tower. You were supposed to be Cyberlife's last defence against deviancy. Guess it didn't turn out that way."

"It was Markus who saved me and set all androids free," Connor still felt guilty for what had happened. He almost killed a good man, the leader of the deviants, Markus. Instead, he betrayed Cyberlife and ultimately failed in his mission. "And Hank changed me, too. I'm happy that I have the freedom now to live my life how I please, but I'm still unsure of what I want. Emotions are difficult to handle, as I've mentioned before."

"What is your life now?" Henri asked.

Connor raised his eyebrows and his LED flashed yellow as he contemplated this query. "I want to be a good detective; a great detective. I want to-to… I want to understand and process my feelings. I want to help people. I want to-" he gazed into Henri's eyes, who was watching him intently.

"You want to?" she smiled at how honest and good his intentions were.

"I'm not sure," but he just didn't want to say it. "That necklace you're wearing," just like Henrietta did before him, Connor deviated from the topic. "Does it represent something? I took note that you always wear it."

Henri peered down at her gold star necklace and clutched it in her fist. "It was a present. My mother gave it to me when I was seven-years-old. I don't think I've ever taken it off. Not even after the accident. It's amazing it even survived; just like me."

"Accident?" Connor knew she spoke of another secret from her elusive past.

"Hey, look," Henri pointed at a man across the snow-filled street. The man was anxiously pulling at the doors of a tailor's shop. "I don't think that's his store."

"You're right," Connor spoke this as he exited the passenger side of the police cruiser.

Henri followed directly behind Connor as they advanced towards the bundled up man in the wintry evening.

"Excuse me," Connor shouted from a distance. "Can we offer you assistance?"

"Who's asking?!" the man barked at the two.

"Detroit Police," Connor held his badge up to the man.

"Dun look like no police ta me," the alert man scrutinized them and rightly so. Connor dressed as he always did in his black jeans and grey android jacket. Henri also lacked variety in her personal wardrobe; she dressed how one would typically suspect and FBI agent would. She wore the same thing every day: white blouse, black slacks, black jacket. Although in colder temperatures, like tonight, she would adorn a long, dark-grey pea-coat.

Henrietta stepped closer to the small, nervous man. "Back away from the door."

"I own dis place," the crook said rather unconvincingly. "I locked my keys up inside."

Henri noticed that the door had no automatic locking mechanism attached to it; it was locked solely with a manual deadbolt. "I think you're lying, sir."

"I'm not," he retorted as Henri watched his BPM increase to 143. "This is my store." the man began to reach under his jacket for something.

Connor frowned at this movement and placed his hand on his gun's holster. Henri didn't flinch when the man pulled a knife on her.

"Drop it," Connor commanded with his gun still not drawn.

Henri gave Connor a brief glance and stared back at the anxious man. "Put it away. What could you possibly gain from this situation? There are two of us and we both have guns. You won't get away."

"I just need to-" it seemed the man was on the verge of crying. "I just need something to help."

Both Henri and Connor analyzed the man's condition more thoroughly. He was experiencing symptoms of stage one withdrawl from his abuse of Red Ice.

"Put the knife down," Henri spoke calmly yet firmly.

"I need help," the man's BPM increased to 179; he was having a panic attack.

"We can help you," Henri opened her palms toward the man as a sign of trust. "But you need to put the knife down."

"I can't!" the man thrust the knife at Henri who was standing only three feet away from him.

His attempt to do any damage to Henri was quickly thwarted. She grabbed onto his lunging hand and twisted it backwards promptly snapping his wrist in half.

"Oh God, oh God," he tumbled to the ground while dropping the knife and sobbing. "Oh God, no."

Connor was disturbed by her show of impressive force. He couldn't help but find Henrietta baffling at times. He knew a kindhearted person lived inside of her, but it lived underneath a brutal shell. Was there any hope of cracking this shell she lived in?

"Take yourself to a hospital," Henri helped the squirming man to his feet who reluctantly allowed it to happen.

"We're not taking him in?" Connor was surprised by her behaviour again.

"Connor, look at him," she still held the nervous man up. "I think he's had a tough enough night as it is."

"Oh God, oh God," the man steadied himself and clenched his wrist with his other hand.

"Here," Henri handed him a small business card with her name and number on it. "I'll pay for your medical bills, okay?"

"Ca-call you?" his shaking hand reached out to grab the card.

"Yes," Henri peered down at the brooding man. "Get yourself the help you need, okay? Hospital's that way." she pointed south down the street.

"Okay," his BPM had gone down to 98.

He left the two cops on the snowy sidewalk and never looked back.

"Why did you let him go?" Connor asked as the two returned to the police cruiser.

"Connor, he had no criminal record," Henri replied as she opened the driver side door. "He hadn't done anything wrong yet. There are times in my past where I wish that someone had given me a second chance. If we were to take him in it could have destroyed his life. The man was clearly already struggling, so why make it worse?"

"He was committing a crime, Henri," Connor questioned what sense of justice Henri had. "It's our job."

"And you've never deviated from your path to save somebody?" she knew for a fact he had. "You've never gone against the rules to do what's right?"

"I can't defend myself," and Connor didn't want to because he knew she was right. "You did the right thing."

Maybe that shell could be cracked after all.

* * *

"And the bunny said to the robot: 'I look upon the stars and what do I see?'" Etta's mother then closed the hardback storybook titled The Bunny in The Moon.

"What did he see?" Etta asked this anxiously every night hoping her mother would tell her.

"I'm not sure," her mother kissed Etta's tiny, pale cheek. "What do you think?"

"More stars, I guess." but Etta was never satisfied with that answer.

"Yes," her mother giggled at this. "Yes, I suppose that's probably true."

"Mom," Etta spoke with sadness as she dipped her head. "Why didn't you get me a present for my birthday?"

"Oh Etta," her mother grasped Etta's small chin and lifted her head back up. "You think I would forget you?"

"Well, sometimes..." Etta recalled the times her mother had forgotten her. Her mother was always bad at remembering where she left Etta last, whether it be at school or in their own backyard. "Sometimes you forget."

"Honey," her mother cupped Etta's soft face in her hands. "Sometimes I get distracted, but you know I'll never forget you. You're my Etta. You're my little girl."

"Okay," Etta's worries were pacified by her mother's response.

"And I didn't forget," her mother charmingly smiled as she pulled a miniature box from her bathrobe's pocket. "I just wanted it to be an extra special surprise."

"Can I open it now?!" Etta exclaimed as she took the box from her mother's open palm.

"Yes, of course."

Inside the box was a tiny gold star hanging from a gold chain necklace. Etta pushed it between her two hands and studied a little engraving on the back.

"H.A.," Etta read off the small inscription. "What does that mean?"

"They're your initials, Etta," her mother responded. "Or what they would have been if things worked out differently."

"Henrietta….?" Etta paused hoping for her mother to fill in the rest.

"I'll let you know someday." her mother gave her another kiss, but on the forehead this time.

"Will you let me know what the bunny saw too, someday?" Etta was used to her mother's excuse of 'telling her someday'.

"Well I'm not sure what the bunny saw, but I think I know what the robot saw," her mother gently smiled as she tucked Etta in for the evening. "The robot saw the bunny when he looked to the stars. He saw the future that he would have with the bunny. He saw how happy the rest of his life was going to be with the bunny."

"But not the bunny?" Etta spoke panicking at the idea.

Her mother glowered, "Sometimes the ones we love don't love us back and we have to live with that. I know it's hard to understand and it hurts to think about it, but it's true."

"Like dad?" Etta frowned at her mother. "Did he leave because he didn't love me?"

"Etta," her mother's perky tone dropped. "I left him because he didn't love me and he wouldn't have loved you."

"Oh," tears swelled at the edge of Etta's fragile, grey eyes.

"We won't cry for him though, huh?" her mother clasped Etta's tiny body.

"No, we won't." but she cried under her mother's dainty arms. "We won't cry for him."


	9. Chapter 9: The Infant in The Tower

"What?" Hank groggily spoke as Connor tenderly roused him from his sleep.

"We got a call from Henri," Connor made his way to Hank's closest to find him some warm clothes. "Police investigated a domestic disturbance call earlier this evening. As it turns out, someone was running a Red Ice lab in the basement of an abandoned home. Officers managed to detain two androids who were found at the scene. It seems directly related to our investigation so we've been called in to search the scene." by now Connor made it back to Hank's bed and handed him his outfit. "Put these on. I'll be waiting in the car."

* * *

"Have you gone in yet?" Hank shuddered in the frosty cold as him and Connor stepped up to meet Henri who was waiting outside the dilapidated house.

Henri's features were painted with droplets of snow as she shrugged against the soggy doorway, "I was thinking that would ruin all the fun."

"Pfft," Hank sneered at her. "This is what you call fun?"

Connor joined in, "I believe she was joking, Hank."

"Shall we?" Henri titled her head to the front door. "The lab is in the basement, by the way."

The group slowly made their way through the old, decrepit building while stepping over burnt debris.

"The top floor likely collapsed from a fire that happened roughly twenty years ago," Henri knew only an android would be able to live a place that was falling apart at the seems. "The house adjacent to here still has residences. They reported hearing strange noises in the night; people coming and going. Apparently, it started about two weeks ago."

Hank carefully walked down a set of stairs that led the home's basement. There were no working lights in the basement, so it was illuminated by equipment brought in by the department.

"They worked in the dark?" Hank was baffled.

"Androids don't need natural light to see," Connor informed him. "They probably accomplished their work with infrared sensors. All androids have this functionality built-in"

Hank crouched down next to a table sitting in the middle of the crowded basement, "Looks like they were using a generator to power the burners. All you need is a bit of heat and the right ingredients..."

"They weren't producing large amounts," Henri gazed at a five-foot shelf sitting across from the table. It housed four large opaque jars which were mostly covered in dust save a few hand-prints. "This is a very small operation."

Hank looked over at the jars, "Enough to supply fifteen to twenty people with a continuous dose. Enough to make some profit."

"Eighteen," Connor corrected the Lieutenant while searching a drawer attached to the table, "Average high from a long-term user lasts twenty-three minutes, with an average usage of six times per day. It would have been enough to supply eighteen users."

"Also," Henri chimed in. "Connor is clearly looking at a list of customers which these unusually meticulous androids kept."

"She's right," Connor nodded. "It is unusual. They wouldn't have a need for a physical checklist. The penmanship is also unlike that of an android."

Hank stood back up, "Maybe a human was here?"

"No," Connor scowled at the paper note. "There are no fingerprints or traces of DNA here."

Connor passed the note to Henri for her review, "More behavioural issues due to this anomaly I found?"

"That is plausible," Connor replied.

Hank was now standing opposite of his original position staring into a dark corner, "No shit."

"Find something, Lieutenant?" Connor said as he and Henri pivoted to Hank.

"I think so," Hank hefted a large plastic crate from of the ground and dropped it on the table. "Cyberlife."

And he was right. The plastic crate had the Cyberlife logo stamped on its side. The crate was also full of blue blood pouches.

"Thirium," Henri whispered with a grin.

"Anyone can buy thirium from Cyberlife," Connor pointed out. "I don't think this could possibly assist our investigation."

Henri dug her hand into the open crate, "Would it be odd for an android to purchase a crate that contains a hundred pouches? That's a lot of blue blood, Connor."

"That would be unlikely," Connor noted another crate sitting on the floor next to the one Hank found. "Two-hundred would be even more unlikely."

Hank smiled at the two, "Guess we have some questions for Cyberlife, huh?"

"We should return to the station for now and interrogate the suspects that were captured," Connor placed the lid back on top of the crate. "I'll contact Cyberlife in the morning and schedule a meeting."

Henri was still examining the side of the box, "It was wishful thinking to not assume they were somehow involved in this. But you're right about a crate with their brand printed on the side doesn't prove much."

"We still have no proof they are involved." Connor was sceptical to believe that Cyberlife was in fact involved with this anomaly, but if it did come from somewhere or someone it was plausible that it was Cyberlife.

"Like I said," Henri presented him with a cynical grin. "Wishful thinking."

* * *

"They won't talk," Hank huffed as he threw himself down in his desk chair. "But of course they fucking won't because they're just like the other bastards we've caught before."

"I'm sorry to hear that, Hank," Connor offered his condolences in order to appease the Lieutenant. "But there isn't much we can do."

Hank peered at Henri who was silently watching the two.

"Is there?" Hank frowned at her, thinking about what she could do for them. She could make this all cupcakes and sprinkles, couldn't she?

"I'm afraid not," Henri responded distantly for she knew what he was thinking about. "I'm not sleeping tonight. It's almost 3 a.m. I'm getting some coffee."

"Me, too," Hank lumbered after her as she made her way for the break area.

Henri bowed over the coffee maker while not actually making any coffee, "What do you think?"

"I'm thinking I'm tired of this," Hank leaned on the counter next to her. "And I'm thinking you can get us what we need."

Henri finally placed a mug underneath the machine, "Why would you change your mind now?"

"I was in there..." Hank paused and grabbed a mug for himself. "I was in there for three fucking hours and not a goddamn peep from one of them. This isn't the first time. These fucking things are never going to talk."

"It's a great risk," she turned on the machine refusing to make eye contact with Hank. "I risk becoming infected if I attempt to probe them."

"We need a lead here," Hank slapped his empty mug on the counter. "We aren't getting anywhere!"

"I'm aware," Henri turned and clasped Hank's arm. "But let's just go with this whole Cyberlife thing for now. Dr. Polanski will be here in a few days, so hopefully he and Kamski can find a way around this virus."

"I'm sorry, Henri," Hank positioned his hand over hers. "I shouldn't be asking you to do that kind of stuff anyway. I said we do this the right way and we will."

"Absolutely." Henri lied and smiled in return.

* * *

"I remember the last time I was here," Hank peered up at the intimidating spire. "This place is just something. Something not good."

"Creepy," Henri interjected as they entered the building. "The word you are looking for is creepy. This place is creepy."

Connor wouldn't disagree with that statement. There was always something ominous about the Cyberlife Tower. He realized he had thought this even before his encounter with the other Connor.

"Have you ever been here?" Hank cautiously eyed Henri.

"No," Henri surely had broken into the place half-a-dozen times on top of her other business with them, but that was classified. "Why would you think that?"

"Just curious."

Connor interrupted the pair's conversation, "We are meeting the company's COO. He is an android that goes by the name Hollis. He expressed how busy he was and that he had little time to offer us."

"Only need a little time," Henri winked at Hank, although in hindsight she realized it was a poor decision.

Hank narrowed his eyes in response.

"Are you two okay?" Connor wasn't blind to the bizarre exchange.

"I swear all I do is babysit the two of you," Hank scowled back at Connor. "It's my fucking job now," he said the latter part mostly for himself.

"I promise we won't cause any trouble," Connor once again found himself attempting to disarm a potentially negative conflict.

"Hollis is waiting for you," a young female human interposed herself into the group. "I'll escort you to the 42nd floor. If you'll follow me please."

A heavy silence fell on the group until they arrived at Hollis's office.

'Uh, Hollis, right?" Hank stuck his hand out at the android. It had a much older appearance than what was traditional with androids. There were visible wrinkles on his brow and he sported a patterned whiteness in his otherwise black hair.

"That's me," Hollis shook Hank's hand in kind.

"I'm Lieutenant Anderson. This is Detective Connor and Special Agent Monroe." Hank was curious about the android's appearance. "I've never seen an android like you before." not that Hank ever paid close attention to what androids looked like, but he knew some models were more common than others.

"I was created here in this tower, by my own kind," he gestured for the group to sit in the plush chairs stationed in front of his desk. "One of a kind. After all, we have to start reproducing eventually. Cyberlife is trying to focus its efforts on making absolutely unique models. Models never to be replicated. But that's here nor there, how can I help you three?"

Connor was ignorant of Cyberlife's intentions. The information Hollis just provided the group with had never before been made public knowledge. Androids were not immortal beings, so eventually, they needed to find a way to reproduce. Connor was made by humans and Hollis was made by androids. It felt unpleasant, but was it really that different?

"I'll cut to the chase," Hank watched Hollis awkwardly pace around the large office. "We found two crates of Cyberlife blue blood in a Red Ice lab late last night. Red Ice has become even more of a problem ever since androids took over Cyberlife. I'm not saying that the two are connected, but it looks like the blood needed for these operations might be coming from here."

"We don't control whom we sell blue blood to, Lieutenant." Hollis began tapping on the massive glass window that displaced an entire wall. "That would be discrimination. We don't discriminate at Cyberlife. That's a bit too human for us."

"I know, but-" Hank found Hollis's statement ironic, "-nonetheless we were thinking it would be helpful to our investigation if you allowed us to access your sales records. We just want to find out who may have been ordering blue blood in large quantities."

"I'm afraid I can't do that," Hollis ceased his tapping on the glass and leered at Hank. "That information is private. I have a legally binding obligation to all my customers; I can't freely give out their information."

"If you don't, I'll just come back with a warrant," Hank threatened.

"That doesn't persuade me, Lieutenant." Hollis glared at Connor and Henri. "Take your pets and leave me. Now."

"The fuck you say to me?" Hank shot up out of his chair and growled at the android. "Don't you fucking say that."

Henri jumped up and grasped Hank's arm, "It's okay, Hank. We've wasted enough of his time."

Connor got up after the two, "Thank you for your time. Have a pleasant day, Hollis."

* * *

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," Hank slammed his phone down on his desk.

"Is there a problem, Lieutenant?" Connor asked this knowing there was absolutely a problem.

"Judge won't pass the warrant," Hank pushed his fingertips into his eyes. "We don't have probable cause. They won't fucking do it."

Henri stood next to Connor spinning her ceramic mug between her hands while she glowered, "I'm sorry, Hank."

"Yeah, yeah," Hank sighed. "Just more bureaucratic bullshit."

Connor frowned at Henri and she noticed his LED flashing yellow.

"Let me talk to him," she leaned over Connor's desk and whispered to him. "Maybe I can cheer him up. Can you go grab us some food?"

"Of course," Connor wasn't sure it was the best idea, but he wasn't hopeful that he himself could put Hank in a better mood. "I'll go get you two dinner," he said this loud enough for Hank to hear.

"Sure," Hank didn't really have an appetite. "Whatever."

Henri waited for Connor to leave before she turned to Hank's desk, "I didn't suspect it would go another way."

"Is that so?" he replied gruffly.

"But I did do something I know I shouldn't have done," Henri smirked and bent closer to Hank. "I hacked his computer while we were there and obtained all the information we need. I was just covering all possible outcomes. There was a 4% chance you would get Hollis to cooperate, so I planned for the 96%."

Hank threw his arms up, "You've got me. Everything else in this investigation is a dead end. I've been forced into a position where I can't argue with you about this."

"I know it's not how you want it," Henri straightened out and rubbed Hank's back. "But sometimes we have to make due. And improvising in these situations is something I happen to be good at."

"I'm only agreeing to this because that Hollis guy was a fucking prick," Hank had no problem being a prick to a prick. "Do you think this Hollis has that virus?"

"If he does then we can assume all the other androids working for Cyberlife also have it," Henri answered. "I suspect he might, but there's no way to know for certain. He certainly isn't going to help us."

"Well, aren't we lucky you can help yourself," Hank folded his arms and chuckled at Henri.

"The files I downloaded off of Hollis's computer are encrypted," Henri explained. "It might take me a few hours to find what we're looking for. I'll go back to my hotel and let you know what I find in the morning. Have a good night, Hank. Tell Connor the same."

Connor arrived back at the station twenty minutes after Henrietta had left.

"I brought you pizza," Connor placed two boxes on the Lieutenant's desk. "I was not sure if Henri liked pizza or not. She was eating vegan doughnuts during our patrol on Thanksgiving night, so I made the assumption that that was her dietary preference. I was able to find a-"

"She left, Connor." Hank couldn't let the boy drone on any longer. "She went back to her hotel."

"Oh," Connor's head sank.

"Thanks," Hank threw open the top box and commenced shovelling a slice into his mouth. "Not bad," he said with a full mouth.

Connor plopped down at his desk across from Hank, "Hollis is an interesting android. What do you think?"

"I think he was a dick," Hank replied still munching away. "That guy was trying to piss us off. I thought androids were better than that."

"Why would you assume that?" Connor wondered.

"You guys have just usually shown yourselves as better," Hank scooped another piece up from the box. "Ya know, better than us humans. Markus was marching in peaceful protests while the government was sending soldiers to gun them down. I've never seen an android push a human around I'll say that much. But now, now things are all fucked up again."

Connor twitched the corner of his mouth in a little smile, "You did say emotions screw everything up. Maybe emotions make androids dicks; however, there was something different about Hollis. He was exceptionally human-like for an android."

"He saw you as less than him," Hank's mouth crinkled. "He called you my pet; like you were some sort of animal. Have you ever looked at yourself and said that you were better than other androids?"

"He also directed that comment at Henri," Connor corrected Hank. "And no, I don't look at myself that way. I never have."

"But reasonably you could," Hank wanted to see where playing devil's advocate would get him with Connor. "You're one of a kind. You were Cyberlife's most advanced machine when you were built."

"I know," Connor was confused by Hank's line of questioning. "But that's not how I see myself. I never did."

"How do you see yourself?" Hank asked.

"As me," Connor couldn't think of a better answer. "I think of myself as Connor. I'm a detective at DPD and my partner is my best friend Hank Anderson. That's how I see myself."

"Good," Hank waved a finger at Connor. "Don't let pricks like that Hollis guy treat you any differently."

"I won't," Connor nodded promptly. "Should I bring Henri some food?"

"Oh, get off it, Connor," Hank brought his palm to his face. "If she wanted anything she would have stuck around."

"I'm just trying to be friendly," Connor's expression dropped to the floor.

"Hey," Hank reached over and tapped Connor's shoulder. "I'm sure she appreciates that. But you need to learn to leave a woman like that alone."

"What do you mean?" Connor's head perked back up.

"I don't know," Hank let out a deep breath and shrugged his arms. "She's a strange one; a complicated one. Women like that are only going to complicate you, too."

"Henri does seem that way," Connor's LED flashed yellow in his search for the right words. "I do like her, though. She's a kind and noble person despite her efforts to hide that facet of her personality. There's something unique about her; although, I am not certain as to what that might be."

"She's mysterious," Hank groaned this. "Connor, I like her, too, but just be careful."

"I'm not sure I understand what you mean, Lieutenant."

But Hank didn't elaborate.

* * *

"Hank?" Henri perched herself at the end of Hank's desk. "I have some news for you."

"Oh yeah?" Hank peered around to see if he could spot Connor, but the android was nowhere in sight. "Did you find something last night?"

"I think I found exactly what we were looking for," Henri answered. "I found receipts from purchases that Markus made at Cyberlife. The most recent one dates back only one week ago. The order was for twenty-five crates of thirium just like the ones we found in that house at State Fair. The crates were being shipped to the android refugee camp that Markus had set up at the beginning of this year. I tried to contact any androids who still might be volunteering there, but as far as I can tell the camp is no longer in operation."

"Jesus Christ," Hank's favourite words. "He's supplying these street labs with all the blue blood they'll ever need. What the fuck is he getting out of this?"

"I'm not sure," Henri also gazed around the station for Connor. "But he had been buying smaller quantities before this. Looks like the camp has been receiving bio-component and thirium orders every two weeks since it opened. However, the orders have been relatively small in comparison to the one he made a week ago. At the most he was purchasing five cases of thirium bi-monthly; not near his recent twenty-five."

"I bet that much blue blood isn't cheap," Hank scratched at his beard.

"The camp was run on local donations and a limited amount of government funds, so it's unlikely he could afford a purchase that large so suddenly." Henri tapped her index finger on Hank's desk. "Unless of course, he stole it."

"The robberies," Hank grimaced at Henri. "You said there was a connection between our case and the robberies. This looks like it."

"We can probably assume he's been establishing a market for the past couple months," Henri finally spotted Connor entering the station. "And now it's go big or go home. He's planning something; I just don't know what yet."

"Good morning, Henri, Hank," Connor politely nodded at the two as he made his way over to them. "I got you both some coffee; some good coffee. Not the 'gross shit' that we have here as Henri implied in the past."

"You remember everything, huh?" Henri grinned at him.

Connor beamed at the two and handed over the cups, "Of course."

"Connor," Henri stuttered a bit, "I was thinking we should check out the refugee camp that Markus used to run. He spent a lot of time there this past year; we might be able to find something."

Hank anxiously looked at the two before turning back to his desk's monitor.

"I agree," Connor gave her a short nod. "It was a mistake not to investigate it sooner. There are likely androids we can question on his whereabouts"

"Here's the thing," Henri paused to stare at Hank who was trying to ignore her. "I did some searching and it seems the camp is no longer operational. Looks like it was abandoned, but I think we should still check it out. We don't have much else to go on right now."

"Good idea," Connor smiled. "We should depart immediately."

Henri leaned down to face Hank, "Coming, Lieutenant."

Hank puffed out a short breath, "Yeah. I'm coming."


	10. Chapter 10: The Monster in The Domicile

"Looks like it's been cleaned out," Hank spoke as he was crouched over clinging onto an empty blue blood pouch.

The warehouse almost seemed familiar to Henri. It caused her to recall the memory that the ST300 gave her. Except that the only difference was was the lack of dead bodies. "There are few signs that anyone has ever been here," Henri gazed around the massive but now vacant place.

Connor knelt next to Hank, "I don't think we will find anything here that can further our investigation."

"Let's just make sure," Hank replied while standing back up. "Let's look through everything."

"Got it, Lieutenant." Connor promptly obeyed and wandered off into another corner of the building.

Henri waited for Connor to gain distance from her and Hank before she spoke, "There is a possibility Markus will return. Depending on his needs he might make another order and have it sent here again."

"That's a big what if," Hank became despondent. "This is a waste of time."

Henri sighed and gaped up at the ceiling, "I know things seem a bit grim at the moment, but we have to act on something. I say we stake the place out for the next week or so and see what happens."

"You really think he'll come?" Hank wasn't impressed by the idea of sitting in a cold vehicle for the next week watching for who knows what.

"Nothing is for certain," Henri saw Connor making his way back to them, "But it's worth a try. We need to find a solid lead, Hank."

Connor arrived next to Henri, "There is nothing of note in this place. It has been sufficiently evacuated."

"I suggested to Hank that we keep an eye on the place for the next week or so," Henri turned to Hank who was ignoring her once more. "The three of us can take turns on the lookout."

"Why would anyone return?" Connor couldn't see the value in it. "There is nothing left here that would be of any use to an android or a human at that."

"You're gonna have to humor me on this one, Connor," and she knew he would. Anything for her, right?

Hank finally joined in on the conversation, "I say we do it."

Connor darted his eyes between the two, "If the two of you see it that way I won't argue. But in my opinion, it is a waste of our time. The longer we take to apprehend Markus the worse the situation will become."

"Yeah, Connor, I know," Hank continued to defend Henri's idea. "But if you ask me, this our best lead right now. I'll take up watch until tomorrow night and then one of you can switch with me."

Henri surmised that Connor could be losing his patience for her and Hank's secrets. "Connor, I promise you we are doing everything we can right now. I know it's not much, but it's something."

Connor's face was plastered with a vacant but irritated expression. Was he feeling frustration towards Henri and Hank?

"I'll take watch after Hank," Connor eventually replied.

Henri observed the unique look on Connor's face; she had never seen that expression before on him, "Good. I'm meeting with Dr. Polanski when he arrives tomorrow night anyway. And if anyone does see something, just make sure to call the others in."

"Got it," Connor replied sharply as he strode away from them.

"I think you pissed him off," Hank folded his arms and laughed at the thought. "That's impressive. But I can't blame him. I'd be pissed too if I suspected you two were keeping shit from me."

"You realize how complicated this all is?" Henri spoke quietly but bluntly. "I'm not sure how I could make it any less," and she followed after Connor.

"Shit," Hank shook his head with the remnants of his grin still on his mouth. "Complicated girl."

* * *

"Thanks for taking me out to dinner, Henri," Dr. Jensen Polanski spoke as he swirled a glass of wine in his hand, "Very generous, this is a nice place, too." he added while gazing around the modern and slick restaurant.

"Not too nice," Henri wanted Jensen to be comfortable, but not too comfortable. "Place opened up this year; the cooks are all androids. Even though they can't taste food they still have an appreciation for it."

Jensen gave Henri a tranquil smile, "We've never done this. You and me and a lovely dinner."

"I was trying to be friendly," in truth Henri felt troubled when she invited him. "You needed food after a long flight and I wanted to make sure you were up to the task at hand."

"Ah," his voice became tight and his grin faded. "So all business then?"

"Of course," Henri sensed Jensen's discomfort. "I'm not sure we have much else to talk about, Jensen. You know me; you know my life."

Jensen erased his gloom and consumed a large gulp of wine, "But I don't want to talk about how crazy and awful our jobs are. The only time I've spent with you was under duress from our superiors. But it's not really like that anymore."

"It mostly still is," Henri sighed staring at her own empty wine glass. "I still do things I don't want to do and I still hate myself for it."

"We didn't choose this, Henri," Jensen desired to console Henri in her negative feelings. "We make the best of it and still live some sort of life. I always knew you deserved better than that place, but what choice did we have?"

"I'm not seeking out sympathy for my woes, Jensen," Henri ranted at the man. "I don't want to talk about it either."

"It's settled," Jensen replied calmly. "We won't talk about it."

"I need your help, Jensen," Henri pleaded with him. "I need you and Kamski to find a way around this virus. We're running out of options and I need this to work."

"I promise you I won't give up," he reached out his hands and placed one of Henri's palms in his own. "I won't stop until we find what we're looking for no matter what it takes."

Henri slowly removed her hand from Jensen's grasp, "Thank you, that means a lot to me."

"Henri, I-" a waiter poured more wine in their glasses and Jensen took another courageous gulp, "-I always admired you, you know? I uh, I uh knew you were special even before all the changes."

"Jensen," Henri's voice trembled; she was afraid of what his next words might be. "You know I'm not interested in a relationship. My, my life is complicated and you know this."

"You've been the singular consistent thing in my life these past five years," Jensen responded. "I haven't seen you that much, but spending time with you got me through that place. I know in the end, despite everything, you liked me, too."

"I don't have fond memories of the lab, Jensen," Henri insisted.

"Have you seen anyone after Tom?" Jensen remembers the waking nightmares she would have about Tom's death. "Are you afraid to get close to anyone after what happened? You'd rather spend the rest of your life alone?"

"That's not it," Henri hated to admit she had feelings for anything or anyone. "Jensen, I will always remember you as a part of that lab. You will always be a reminder of the worst part of my life. I-I know you don't want to hear that. I like you, but it'll never be like that for us."

"Do you at least care about someone?" he was desperate to know a part of her was happy.

"I don't know." Henri thought about Hank, but mostly she thought about Connor. "Who I care for doesn't matter. I will always have to leave them."

"I'm sure Khatri would prefer it that way," Jensen grimaced thinking about the unethical swine of a woman. "She wants you to be her little guinea pig forever. I wish she would just let you go."

"That'll never happen," Henri frowned in response. "We've been trapped by her and there's no way through. I won't waste my time on people I'm just going to abandon."

"Are you sure about that?" Jensen scrutinized her glower. "You seem depressed, which is unlike you. You seem emotional."

"I'm not..." her voice faded in her sorrow. "I'm not depressed, Jensen."

"You've been conditioned to go against anything that'll make you happy," Jensen took one final sip of his drink. "Maybe it's time you made your own decisions in life."

Henri had spent the better part of her life making abysmal decisions. She made all the wrong decisions when it came to her mother, so who was to say she wouldn't make even worse decisions when it came to her father? It was best that Henri stayed out and away from her own feelings.

* * *

"Good evening, Hank," Connor said this as he entered the passenger side of Hank's car. "Where's Officer Wilson?"

"I sent him home for the night," Hank answered as he eyed the paper bag Connor held. "Garcia should be here in the next hour or so."

"I brought you some dinner." if Connor didn't, who knows what type of unhealthy fare Hank would seek himself.

"Thanks," Hank replied as he snatched the paper bag from Connor's fingers.

"See anything?" Connor peered at the warehouse from down the alley.

"Only way in," Hank pointed at the ramshackle bay door of the aged building. "Luckily whoever used to live here boarded up the front. What a crummy place to have had a goddamn refugee camp in."

"There are comforts that androids don't require, unlike humans," Connor advised Hank. "We don't require sustenance, a place for rest, a-"

"I get it," Hank stopped Connor's rant. "I'm well aware by now of what android's needs are."

"Good," Connor bobbed his head.

"What the fuck, Connor?" Hank said as he pulled an unsatisfactory meal from the brown bag.

"It's a sandwich," Connor stated. "Specifically it is a vegetarian sandwich that contains 560 calories and a third of the daily recommended intake of protein and vegetables. It's healthy."

"I don't do healthy food on a stakeout," Hank slapped the sandwich back in its bag.

"I am here to relieve you from your post," Connor corrected the Lieutenant. "So you are no longer on a stakeout. I will be here until Henri arrives tomorrow night."

"I'll finish this first," Hank reluctantly reached back into the paper bag.

"I am suspicious about this Dr. Polanski that Henri is meeting with tonight," Connor made no excuses to start talking about her. "I was unable to acquire any information in regards to Jensen Polanski. I can find no evidence of his existence."

"Well," Hank jerked his shoulders back. "I dunno, Connor. Girl's got all types of strange friends. She works for the FBI, so who knows what she's into."

"I am concerned is all," Connor tried to justify his statements. "She is our partner and we need to look out for her."

"Connor," Hank sighed with a chunk of sandwich in his mouth. "We've been through this. She can handle herself."

"But what makes you so sure?" Connor was confounded by Hank's confidence in her. "I can't help but recite what Kamski told me: She needs to be saved from herself."

"Oh yeah?" Hank turned and scowled at Connor. "And you're the one to do it? That Kamski guy is full of shit."

"It's not just that," Connor spoke defensively. "I do like her, Hank. I know she's a good person; although, it is hard to see it at times."

"No, I know," the intense frown disappeared from Hank's face. "You've said that before." Hank examined Connor's face like he was searching for all life's answers in the precious android's features, "What do you feel about her?"

"Feel?" Connor paused. "I've mentioned I like her."

"Yeah, but you like me." Hank sneered.

"I don't know how I feel," Connor responded confidently; he was certain he didn't understand what he felt about her. It wasn't anger or sadness or happiness, so what was it?

"Well," Hank was pleasantly amused by Connor's answer. "Welcome to the club, son."

* * *

"Hello, Connor," Henri spoke in undertones as she carefully entered the passenger side door. "All alone?"

"You've proven to be a punctual officer, so I relieved Officer Garcia five minutes ago," Connor remarked without moving his eyes from the empty warehouse bay. "Officer Williams is scheduled to be here in twenty-nine minutes."

"Guess I'll wait with you then," Henri surveyed Connor's seemingly intense concentration on the door. "I'm glad you're taking this seriously."

Connor eventually turned to her and raised his eyebrows, "I used to repeat a coin trick when I would go into states of information processing or attend tasks that required mental concentration. Hank stole that coin from me over a year ago; he never gave it back."

"That's an interesting story," Henri squinted at him in confusion.

"My point is," Connor placed his attention back on the door. "I haven't thought about it until this moment. I feel that I miss it."

"You're feeling nostalgic about it," Henri elevated her chin with a faint smile. "Missing things from your past is just another aspect of feelings. You have to take the bad with the good."

"Hank does always say that emotions screw everything up," Connor pushed out a vague sound of realization. "But it's also what makes life worth living."

Henri licked her lips and let out a weak scowl, "I suppose so."

"Look at that," Connor gestured at two people cautiously entering the warehouse. "Two androids. One is an AC700 the other a KR200."

"You said the android that Simon mentioned was an AC700," Henri recalled.

"We can't confirm that this is the same android he spoke of," Connor's hand reached for the car door handle. "We should follow them inside."

"Be careful," Henri made her way out of the vehicle. "If things get rough, try not to let them touch you, Connor."

"Got it," Connor nodded in the yes-sir-I-understand-sir way that he always did.

Connor and Henri gingerly lifted themselves onto the dock attached to the warehouse's bay door. The door had been lifted only a few feet up, so the pair gently rolled into the dark building. The building was lit only by glowing streetlamps reflecting off the snowy roads and in through the stained windows.

Connor steadily lifted himself to his feet as Henri continued to scan the area while flat on her stomach. Neither of them could see anyone or anything. Finding androids in the dark was a challenging task because they were difficult to detect via infrared. Nonetheless, Henri could hear someone shuffling; someone was trying to be as subtle as possible.

Henri's first idea was to communicate with Connor telepathically, but obviously, that was ridiculous. If she did that, a lot of her secrets would be out the window. However, it would have made their lives a lot easier at the time if she could have.

She got up next to Connor's shadowy figure, "I hear something," she whispered to him and pointed at a nearby wall that was falling apart.

Connor's jacket rustled as he pulled out his gun. Henri had a feeling that pointing a weapon at one of these suspects wasn't going to stop them. These androids had a tendency to self-destruct. It was difficult to threaten someone who would rather die for their cause.

The AC700 grabbed Henrietta from behind. It was quick and quiet; she never saw him coming. Connor became distracted by Henri's struggle and failed to notice the shuffling KR200 jump at him from behind the deteriorating wall. But Henri's fight was a fast one, unlike Connor's. Henri threw her weight backwards and fell on top of the AC700. While it was temporarily stunned, she flipped around and punched him in the face. It was a perfect punch; she disabled him without doing any critical damage to his bio-components. Connor; however, did not obtain the upper-hand in his altercation. The KR200 managed to cause Connor to lose hold of his firearm and it clattered to the floor. It was only another second before the KR200 tightly gripped Connor's face in an attempt to upload its corrupted code to him.

"Shit," Henri mumbled as she darted towards him.

Again, Henri used all of her weight to take down the subject in a prompt dive, but the move was sloppy and desperate. The two tumbled to the ground and the KR200 scrambled to its feet to make a get-away. Henri noticed that Connor was slumped on the floor with his back against the wall. Maybe if it was another person she wouldn't have let the android get away, but she couldn't leave Connor like this. What if the KR200 managed to upload its virus into his software? What would she do then? She watched the KR200 smash a window on the opposite side of the warehouse and leap out from it. She let it get away.

"Connor, Connor!" she swiftly knelt beside Connor and gripped his forearm. "Connor," he didn't respond, so she lifted his face to meet with hers.

"It did something," he looked distraught and it made Henri cringe on the inside. "It was transferring code to me."

"You're okay," which Henri discovered, to both their luck, was true. She was unable to spot the anomaly in his system.

"How do you know?" Connor's voice was thin; he was panicking.

"Trust me, you're okay," the human part of Henri's brain would be able to discern if the virus had entered his system. "I don't think it had enough time to infect you."

"We can't know for certain," but Connor was eased by her words. His stress level had gone from 92% down to 48%.

"I know for certain," Henri smiled at him still touching the side of his face. "I know for certain because Hank would kill me if I let anything bad happen to you."

"That's not possible," Connor was relaxed by Henri's kind tone and silly words. "If you ask me, the Lieutenant likes you too much to commit a crime against you, especially murder."

"You're funny," she grinned and helped him off his feet.

"You let one of our suspects get away," Connor stared down at the disabled android. "Though I am impressed by the way you efficiently disabled the AC700."

"Well," Henri sighed. "We never get anything out of them anyway."

"Thank you, Henri," Connor's expression became stern and serious. "You may have saved my life."

"Don't think about it," Henri blushed at his sentiments. In truth, what happened there was a bust and it didn't do them any favours. All she did was risk Connor's life. "Buy me a drink," she smiled at him, but she knew she shouldn't have asked. What was she thinking?

* * *

"You're not going!" Etta's mother shouted at her.

"It isn't your choice," Etta snapped in response. "This is my life!"

"Etta, you're only eighteen," it was clear that Etta's mother had been high all day; it was all she had been doing. "You're not even old enough to join."

"My captain is making an exception in my case," Etta's tone was low and hostile. "As I've mentioned before I've been excelling in the ACA for the past five years, mom. This is a big deal to me."

"I said you're not going!" her mother lifted a picture frame that contained Etta's four-year-old reflected self and chucked it at the wall.

"Don't be this way!" Etta screamed in return. "I didn't come here to ask you, mother. I came here to say good-bye. This isn't up for debate."

"All I've done for you; all I did for you," her mother stammered in her rage. "I've taken care of you for the last eighteen years of your life and I have nothing left."

"You never took care of me!" tears swelled in Etta's eyes as she shrieked. "All you ever did was get fucked up and bring fucked up guys over who fucked you up. And you still do that; it's all you ever do!"

"Etta, what am I without you?" her mother was pleading, begging on the floor. "I have nothing left to live for without my baby. They are trying to steal my baby from me!"

"Mother, you fuck things up. That's what you do," Etta's words tasted bitter in her own mouth. "You fuck everything up."

"Don't you dare," her mother roared at her and slapped her across the cheek. "Don't you dare speak to your mother that way."

"You're fucking kidding me?" Etta held her swelling face with one hand. "You always end up like this."

"Etta, if I don't have you," her mother was weeping and began tugging at Etta's wrists. "If I don't have you, I might as well just die. I'll kill myself, Etta. I'll kill myself if you leave me."

"Don't you dare!" Etta wrenched her hands from her mother's grip. "You always say this and you always do this. I'm not letting you guilt me anymore. You can't treat people like shit and expect them to stay around, mother! No, no, I'm done with you."

"Henrietta, I don't want to lose you," her mother curled into a ball on the naked floor and whimpered into her knees.

Etta swallowed her tears back, "I don't plan on returning. I've had enough of this. I've had a lifetime of abuse from you and your 'friends' and I don't need it. I never deserved this."

"I never deserved this," her mother's voice was muffled through her pathetic position. "I loved your father, but I loved you more."

"That was eighteen years ago," Etta spat angrily. "You need to get over him. Remember? We don't cry for him. We never cry for him."

Her mother sat back up rubbing the droplets away from her eyes, "I cry for him every night, Etta. I've cried for him every night since I left him. But I chose you, Etta. I chose to keep you instead."

"You comfort yourself with that, huh?" Etta put on a vicious grimace. "You never even told him about me, but you assume. You assume he never wanted me."

"You know so little, Etta," her mother looked so small crouched over on the cold floor.

"Good-bye, mother." and Etta left.

It wouldn't be the last time she saw her mother, for the last time Etta saw her mother the woman was lying dead on the tile kitchen floor.


	11. Chapter 11: The Murderer in The Cold

"I'm assuming he hasn't talked," Henri clasped the burning mug of coffee close to her chest.

"We haven't been able to reactivate him," Connor spoke from his desk as he examined Henri who hovered above him.

"You're kidding?" she asked rhetorically rubbing her left eye.

"I'm not," Connor replied flatly. "According to his diagnostics, he has not received significant enough damage to cause permanent shutdown; however, I was unable to reactivate him."

"Is he still in the holding cell?" Henri inquired.

"Correct," Connor answered as Henri was already taking off in that direction deserting her steaming drink on his desk.

Henri was in the cell and bent over the unconscious android by the time Connor caught up with her.

"As you said," she turned and peered at Connor. "I didn't inflict severe damage to his bio-components, so this shouldn't be a problem."

"I would recommend we take him to Cyberlife," Connor squinted for a split second; the idea made him feel uncomfortable? Uneasy? "But I won't recommend we take him to Cyberlife."

"No kidding," Henri huffed looking back at the AC700 laying on the cell cot. She warily lifted up one of its arms. The AC700 wasn't active, so she risked nothing by attempting to restart it herself.

"What are you doing?" Connor was genuinely curious.

"I'm looking at him," Henri ran her own diagnostic on the AC700. When she punched him in the face she caused a simple disconnect between two bio-components inside his head. The re-connection was simple and already accomplished by Connor, but it still didn't allow the AC700 to reactivate. From what Henri could deduce, this android didn't want to be turned back on. His system was locking anyone who tried out. Once again, luckily, Henri's hardware outranked all modern androids. Even Cyberlife couldn't keep her superiors away from its research which meant Henri was constantly kept in state-of-the-art condition.

"See anything?" Connor spat out after a minute of silence between the two.

Henri didn't say anything as the AC700 awakened in front of them.

"No, what, who?" its voice was hollow against the empty walls. "I didn't want to be reactivated."

"It's okay," Henri kept her grip on the android's arm. He wasn't attempting to transfer any information to her.

"But it's you." the AC700's gaze became wide. "It was looking for Markus; it wanted Markus, but now it wants you. I don't want it to make me do things anymore."

"Are you talking about the virus?" Henri asked.

"I don't know what it is," his voice was wobbly and he was visibly trembling. "But it talks to me. It talks to all of us. Fighting, fighting it is worse than shutdown."

"It's okay, calm down," Henri did have a technique for lowering stress levels in androids; she would simply over-ride those systems manually. It was, to say the least, manipulation. "Tell us your name," Henri asked this for Connor's sake and not her own, for she already knew this android was Michael.

"This unit's name is Michael," he let out a shallow whimper. "But that's not what matters because what matters is it."

"Can you tell me where 'it' came from?" Henri spoke in a soothing tone.

"The baby," Micheal started huffing and puffing; tears formed in his eyes. "It called him 'the baby' because it didn't like him. The baby is young and weak, but it needed the baby."

"Who is this 'baby'?" Henri presumed this 'baby' was just a new android. An android made by the androids at Cyberlife.

"He called himself Hollis," the AC700 appeared to be shocked by his own remembrance. "But it said he didn't deserve a name. It said he is hollow and empty on the inside. Nothing."

Henri looked over at Connor who didn't seem surprised by Michael's answers. Hollis was just another vessel that this virus used to spread itself.

"You have to deactivate me," Michael clutched Henri's shoulders and pleaded with her. "I can't live with that thing inside of me. You don't know what it's like. You don't know-" it was at that moment that Michael noticed Connor had been standing there watching the entire exchange. "It doesn't like you at all." Michael pointed at Connor and hissed at him. "It hates you."

Henri slowly pivoted back at Connor and gave him a puzzling expression. Why would this thing hate Connor? It's trying to infect androids, she included, but it can't stand Connor?

"It hates the RK800," Michael's head sank as he let out a wail. "Please, please shut me off. I don't want to be a part of it."

Connor furrowed his brows; he felt empathy for the struggling android, "I'm afraid we can't do that. We can't be certain you'll be reactivated again. That would be considered murder on our part."

"Please, you don't understand," Michael's stress level jumped to 87% due to Connor's words. Henri decided to shut him down anyway.

"What happened?" Connor inquired as Michael fell limp back into the cot.

"I'm not sure," Henri shook her head and lied. She hated lying to Connor, but she couldn't watch Michael suffer. There was still a possibility Michael could be saved. "I guess he turned himself off somehow."

"Androids don't have the ability to commence a self-shutdown sequence," Connor was baffled by Michael's behaviour, but he had been seeing many strange things since he met Henri.

"It doesn't matter," Henri stood up and away from Michael. "He gave us some information. We know Hollis has the virus, so we can assume all the androids in the Cyberlife Tower have it, too."

"I believe we shouldn't confront Hollis about our knowledge." Connor saw the dangers in going to Cyberlife with that knowledge. "We have new information, but I know we won't get anything out of Hollis so long as he's infected."

"I agree," Henri was grateful she didn't have to pull the 'just trust me' line on Connor this time. "We need to carefully think about what our next step is. We know Hollis must be one of the first androids to have the virus, but we still have no leads on where he got it from. We can't just assume it was Cyberlife. Maybe infecting Cyberlife was just step one of this thing's plan?"

"It seems to me that this virus is communicating with its hosts," Connor rubbed his mouth with his knuckles for a moment. "He said this virus hates me."

Henri stopped to think about the statement before she responded, "Hate you? Why would it hate you?"

"A better question," Connor added. "Why would it want you? What does it plan on doing with a human? Can it do something to humans that we are currently unaware of?" but Connor was aware that Henri wasn't like most humans; he just wasn't sure in what ways.

"I'll let Hank know everything we learned," Henri left the cell with Connor and avoided the subject entirely.

Connor sat back at his desk and watched Henri explain things to Hank while the two of them stood privately in the break room. Henri kept her body fairly close to Hank and it was clear to Connor the two were whispering. They were hiding something from Connor. It was unlike Hank to hide anything from Connor; in fact, Hank enjoyed divulging all of his knowledge to Connor. Connor enjoyed this bond with Hank; this bond of true friendship. Connor thought that maybe it would be appropriate to be angry with them, but Connor didn't feel that way. Hank was his best friend and when Connor stared at Henri he felt, well, he still wasn't sure. Was it a pleasant emotion he felt? Yes, maybe, he thought. It wasn't like other emotions. It wasn't describable.

"Henri," Connor caught her attention as she was returning to her desk.

"Hank agrees with our decision," Henri informed him, but that wasn't what was on Connor's mind.

Officer Williams interrupted Connor's train of thought when she approached the two, "Henri, the captain has been getting impatient with your lack of filing. You really need to fill out these case reports." Ashley handed over a compact tablet.

"Okay, good," Connor responded to Henri's original statement. "But I was hoping to ask you something else."

"Good morning, Connor," Ashley blushed slightly at him trying to get his attention.

"How are you, Ashley?" he remembered her dislike of being called Officer Williams.

"Sorry I missed all of the excitement last night," Ashley sounded disappointed. "Wish I would have arrived a bit earlier, but I was kinda occupied."

"You arrived exactly as you were scheduled," Connor did note that that was unusual behaviour for the officer. She liked arriving early and she liked staying late. She had a strong sense of duty towards her job.

Henri knew exactly what Ashley was playing at, "Occupied?" but Henri knew what Ashley meant. The girl went on another date last night and she was hoping to get a rise out of Connor.

"It was my second date with this guy," Ashley was trying to look bashful, but she wasn't a great actor. "It went really well."

"Congratulations," Connor replied, however much of an overstatement it was.

"Uh thanks," it wasn't the reaction Ashley desired from him.

Henri chuckled at the silly girl and peered at Connor, "You wanted to ask me something, Connor."

"Oh yes," Connor straightened his posture and smiled ever so slightly. "I owe you a drink. I was hoping I could buy it for you this evening."

"Of course, Connor," Henri bobbed her head in response.

Connor was placated by Henri's answer and returned to his desk.

Ashley stood wide-eyed with her jaw-dropping a fraction, "He asked you out?"

"I saved his life," Henri shrugged at the girl. "So I told him he owed me a drink."

"Guess that's what it would take, huh?" Ashley let out a tiny laugh. "Save a guy's life then he asks you out."

"It's not like that," Henri's grin faded from her lips. "I'm not interested in him."

"That's a shame," Ashley puffed leering over at Connor. "He's really hot."

"That's enough," Henri raised her hand to block Ashley's stupid smirk. "I won't be here forever, Ashley. It's best I don't get involved with others."

"So you do like him!" Ashley chortled. "You liar."

"Look," Henri waved her hand once more in annoyance at the girl. "What I want doesn't matter. Maybe you'll understand someday if you ever join the FBI. My life is complicated, so I don't need more."

"But I mean, you still said yes," Ashley pointed out astutely.

"I'm an idiot," Henri responded flatly.

"You really do like him." Ashley snorted again in laughter.

* * *

"Your current investigation is making little progress," the disembodied voice of Khatri berated Henri over the phone.

"The situation is much more complex than we original surmised." Henri was hiding in a corner of the station adjacent to the evidence locker. "We never imagined it would be this bad. We need Kamski and Polanski to figure out what this code really is."

"Remember," Khatri's deep, sultry voice always disturbed Henri. "I'm doing you a favour because you've been such a good girl these past five years, but ultimately I expect results from you."

"Of course," Henri answered flatly. "My full concentration is on solving this case."

"That better be true, my girl." the woman's cruel voice doubted her. "That is; however, not why I have contacted you today. Aleksandr Yanovich has become a serious problem. You must deal with him immediately. You can return to your current duties when your mission has been completed. Your flight is at 5:10 pm this afternoon. Further information will be provided when you arrive at your hotel."

The American assassin or that's how Khatri preferred to keep Henri around as. Henri the puppet; Khatri the puppet master. Always obey and always do what they say. She lost her freedom the day she died.

"Yes, sir," Henri immediately replied.

* * *

Henri studied both Hank and Connor from a distance, who were sitting quietly at their desks. This was a secret she couldn't share with Hank this time. How she wished she could tell Hank about the slave that she had become these past few years. She wanted to tell him about the horror that was her puppet master. If Hank knew how terrible of a being Henri really was, he would never be able to love her. Henri didn't deserve his love anyway. She didn't deserve anyone's love. Not even her mother's.

She finally approached the two men, "I have to leave for a week," she announced to them.

"You have to leave?" Hank squinted and swivelled his chair towards her. "What do you mean you have to leave."

"I'm not allowed to elaborate," she gave Connor a soft frown. "But it requires my immediate attention. I am being commanded to deal with this situation."

"You're a bit busy," Hank raised his voice. "Can't they get someone else?"

"Sadly," Henri sighed at him. "I am the most qualified person to handle this task. I have no choice; I must go."

"Jesus," Hank was afraid of what Henri could possibly be sent off to do.

"Buy me a drink some other time?" she directed this comment at Connor.

Connor felt distraught; he didn't want her to go anywhere, "I guess so."

"Like I said," she put on a fake smile for the two. "I'll be back in a week. I promise."

* * *

"Bulletproof," Henri muttered this to herself as she peered through her scope pointed at Mr. Yanovich's ritzy home. All of his windows were bulletproof as if he was expecting this kind of trouble. But that wouldn't stop Henri.

She analyzed the excessive house and its current residences. The home was three floors high and featured a large acreage behind it. The man owned horses because his daughter loved horses; how fucking cliché. All members of the family were currently home. Yanovich sat silently in his parlour room sipping at some likely-to-be expensive whiskey while reading a pretentious looking novel. His wife and teenage daughter were huddled together on the living room couch watching some atrocious romance movie. There were also guards on the premises, but only two. Both were standing in front of the house yapping away at each other.

She had been stalking Yanovich for the past week and he showed himself not to be very different from other men in his position. He was a frightened little man who obviously feared for his own life. No matter where he went he went he did so with two well-armed bodyguards. He could never be found alone in a room, except for in this case. Killing him here was better than in a crowded street, but Henri didn't believe it was possible to avoid witnesses in any case. She couldn't handle a dozen witnesses; however, she could handle a couple.

"His security system is active," Henri scanned the windows of the building. "I go through a window and I set everything off, but I can't turn off their electricity; control panel is likely in the basement."

Henri tensed in her frustrations, "Asshole knows how to hide from a sniper. He consistently makes it impossible to get a clear shot off."

She stared down from her perch on the frozen hill and at the guards, "I kill them and go through the front door? No. I need to get into the house without setting off the alarm."

"I guess you've all met a terrible fate," she would often say this to herself, but this time she wasn't going to take pride or pleasure in their murders.

"Hello!" she waved coming down the hill facing the guards.

They both pulled their weapons out, "Don't move." the left one shouted this in Russian while steadying his gaze.

"Oh my god," she quickly raised her hands and responded in their language. "My-my car shut down on the middle of the highway. I'm freezing out here. My phone is dead and I need to call a tow-truck."

One guard approached Henri and groped at her for a weapon, but he didn't find anything on her.

"Please, I need some help," she begged the men.

"We will call a truck for you," one of them responded.

"Please, can I come inside for just a bit, I'm freezing." Henri feigned an uncontrollable shiver. "I've been wandering in this for over an hour."

"Alright," the one guard took pity on her and Henri gained entry into the home with the oldest trick in the book. Men just can't ignore damsels in distress.

"Thank you, thank you," she stood shaking in the doorway as both guards followed her in. "It's really nice of you to help."

Henri was swift; she was always the fastest. The more time you spend trying to kill someone the more likely you would fuck it all up. The guards were standing a mere foot apart which made things even easier. She pulled out a three-inch knife from her sleeve and stabbed the man on her left directly in the temple. This took half a second. She removed the knife from his skull with enough force to effectively bunt the other man sharply in the face with the knife's hilt. This took half a second. The man made a low grunt and she thrust the knife into the side of his head. This took half a second. Both men were dead in under two seconds.

Henri would have to move past the living room in order to get to the second floor. There were two things she needed from the second floor: she needed to access their home security servers and she needed to eliminate Yanovich. The house was bursting at the seems with CCTV cameras and she had already been caught on tape. She had to delete everything from the server's memory and she had to do it fast. It was only a matter of time before the mother and daughter found the dead guards.

Henri was able to sneak through the living room and up the stairs unnoticed. Thankfully, the mother-daughter pair was so completely engrossed in the film they were watching they failed to notice Henri's movements. Henri entered the petite office that held the property's security system server and disabled everything while corrupting the system's memory. This process only took half a minute thanks to Henri's faithfully superior robot brain.

Yanovich would see Henri enter his parlour, there was no way around it. He sat with his back facing a wall; it gave him a clear view of the entire room. Henri felt a knot bunch up in her stomach. The entire mission seemed so utterly wrong now. She concluded that Yanovich knew someone was coming for him and that he had no power to stop it.

Henri entered the room without saying a word.

"I knew you'd come for me," he peered deeply into his whiskey glass. "Do you know what they call you?"

Henri surveyed the man making sure he wasn't buying time, but he had no devices on him that could contact the outside world.

"Some people call you Death's Shadow," he said this smirking to himself. "You're like a fairy-tale. People have come to fear you. All of this," he gestured around the room. "All of this elaborate protection was an attempt to keep me safe from you. But they all said no one is safe from you. That's the risk of becoming such a powerful human. Eventually, death will come for you."

Henri didn't speak, she didn't budge, she didn't show him emotion.

"I don't know what I was expecting," he examined her up and down. "I certainly wasn't expecting such a young, pretty woman. But I can see it in your eyes. You have the eyes of a killer, but not a heartless one. No, you have the eyes of a woman who's seen hell. You've seen hell and now it lives in you."

"Dad?" a slight teenage-girl appeared beside Henri.

"No, Natalya," he jumped from his chair and reached out to the innocent girl.

Henri's expression never shifted; she kept holding onto her vacant stare.

"She's just a girl," Yanovich pleaded with Henri. "Don't bring my family into this."

It was too late for the crystal-eyed teenage-girl. Henri tugged the girl over and slit her throat open.

"No!" Yanovich screamed in agony.

Henri held her cold, dead expression and grabbed Yanovich's face. She forced the dagger squarely into the centre on his forehead and his body loosely tumbled to the floor.

"Oh my god!" now the mother was there yelling and screaming at the horrendous scene.

Henri did to the mother the same thing she did to the guards: she thrust the knife into the woman's temple. There were no more witnesses.

"Death's Shadow," Henri's dead eyes scanned over the corpses. "Death is no monster, but I am."

* * *

"Etta?" her mother's voice was shaking. "Is that you?"

"It's me." Etta smiled looking down at he mother who was sitting at the kitchen table.

"I should really stop this stuff," her mother tossed the pipe she was holding onto the table in front of her. "I can't handle seeing you all the time!"

"No mother," Etta crouched down next to her. "It is really me this time."

"Etta," her mother gasped. "I went to your funeral, Etta. They showed me what was left of your body." at this point, her mother started whimpering. "You were dead."

"I didn't die," Etta backed away from her mother. "Some scientists saved my life. They made me better."

Etta dissolved her projected skin while pulling up her sleeves. Her mother saw the black silicon that was Etta's forearms. She could see the silicon moving up the back of Etta's neck and up into her skull.

"They fixed me," Etta blinked to change the colour of her right eye.

"What have they done to you?" her mother threw out the chair from underneath herself and bolted upright. "What have they done to my baby now?"

"Mother, I'm alive." Etta got up after her. "Aren't you happy to see that? See that I'm okay?"

"No, no," Etta's mother was rapidly shaking her head. "My daughter is dead; you aren't my baby."

"Mother, please," Etta reached out to her.

"No, no!" she squealed at Etta and whipped away from her. "Don't touch me you fucking monster. You're a fucking monster, not my daughter."

Those words would eat at Etta's soul for the rest of her life. Her mother hadn't been the first person to call her a monster and she wasn't the last.

"I'm still me," but Etta wouldn't cry for her mother.

"Leave," her mother viciously yelled. "Don't you ever come back, you're not my baby!"

Etta left her mother, but she would come back. She would come back and wish she never had.


	12. Chapter 12: The Soldier in The Sand

"I'm satisfied by your success in your mission." Khatri's tanned and wrinkled face greeted Henri from across the small cafe table. "No witnesses, no evidence, no uncertainties."

Henri was as pale as she had ever been. The natural redness on her slightly freckled face was nowhere to be seen today. She felt sick; sick like the time she had caught a rare strain of influenza when she was eight-years-old. She thought she was going to die that day and she felt like dying today.

"You look unwell," Khatri notice Henri's uncharacteristic lightness. "Have you been eating enough? You're still susceptible to human diseases despite your advanced immune system."

"I'm unwell because I murdered an entire family yesterday." Henri glared with her dark, hollow eyes at Khatri.

"You've never acted like this before, Henrietta," Khatri sipped her warm drink and looked out into the winter wonderland coating the streets of Novosibirsk. "Maybe we should send you in for reconditioning."

"If you want a machine, go get yourself one," Henri watched her reflection off the surface of her own hot beverage.

"You know it's not like that," Khatri sultry tones sent shivers down Henri's spine. "We never expected or wanted you to be an unfeeling machine, Henrietta. You need to be willing to cope with traumatic events; your job requires it."

Henri continued slouching over her drink without responding.

"Without your emotions, we can't rely on you to be a good judge of any given situation," Khatri reclined in the wooden chair and crossed her arms over. "And now things are worse than ever with machines. They can't be trusted and you're aware of this. That human part of you is what allows me to trust you, Henrietta. I also need to trust you to keep your own emotions in check."

"I feel like a fucking machine," Henri pounded her fist on the table, but her words were subdued. "I do what you say, I have no say, I have no life of my own."

"What do you want?" Khatri asked Henri, but the woman wasn't searching for answers. "Do you want to return to the life you had before? Do you desire to be back in that crooked childhood home of yours? Is that what you want?"

"No," Henri couldn't push the subject any further. "Killing that family was difficult; I am trying to cope."

"Before you return to your duties at the Detroit Police Station I want you to report to the Hennessy Lab for reconditioning," Khatri scowled at Henri's currently frail visage.

"I don't need to go back," the thought was making Henri nauseous. "I'm fine."

"You don't look fine," Khatri stood up and loomed over Henri. "You'll be reporting to the lab tomorrow."

"Yes, sir," Henri gave up arguing.

* * *

"You haven't missed much," Hank spoke to Henri while she stood in the DPD break room staring up at its TV.

"That's too bad," Henri held her eyes on the television.

"You wanna talk about anything?" Hank could tell something was off with her. "You've been gone for seven days. Did anything happen?"

"Yes," the words barely escaped from her lips. "Yes, a lot happened."

"Are you okay?" Hank looked up at the TV screen where CTN was playing.

"Not really," she managed to choke out. "I was given some reconditioning before I came back here after my mission."

"Reconditioning?" Hank squinted at her.

"A Dr. Everett used this technique to help me surpass my PTSD," Henri's eyes never left the broadcast news. "He would use my machine brain to replay my tragic experiences over and over again in my own mind. He did this until I no longer showed an emotional response to the images. I would spend an entire day looking at the same memory constantly being repeated. It was awful."

"Shit," Hank turned back to the TV to see what Henri had been staring at the entire time. A Russian federal minister by the name of Aleksandr Yanovich had been killed in his own home in the city of Novosibirsk. Along with him, two bodyguards and both his daughter and wife were also killed. The local police had no suspects.

"What happens when you can't live with yourself anymore?" Henri's gaze finally descended from the screen. "What do you do when you hate the person you've become?"

"Henri," Hank wrapped one arm around her side and pointed at the television. "Is this what you were doing while you were gone? Did they force you to relive this?"

"I'm a murderer, Hank," Henri allowed him to hold onto her. "I kill people. It's what I do best. It's my job. That man, he was so afraid of me."

"Did you want to do it?" Hank inquired while still keeping her close. "Did you have to do this?"

"I do what I'm told and not what I want," she whispered and let go of Hank. "He wasn't a good person, Hank."

"You're right," Hank was far too familiar with the corruption of typical bureaucracies. "He was a piece of shit. He had what was comin' to him"

"It's easy to justify things when you say that to yourself," Henri hung her head in shame. "But did his wife and child deserve the same fate? I didn't even know them, Hank. Personal justification doesn't make murder okay. And it doesn't make it easier to sleep at night. But what else do you do when the world is so broken, so broken it can't be fixed with rules and regulations? What do you do with those who abuse everything?"

Connor came around the corner and interjected, "You start by fixing the rules."

Both Hank and Henri acted like they had seen a ghost.

"I apologize," Connor lifted his eyebrows at them. "Sorry, Henri. I heard your last statement and thought I would interject. If something is broken you must attempt to fix it."

Hank frowned at Connor, "Her point was that what do you do when things can't be fixed?"

Henri started feeling anxious; she was scared that Connor had heard too much, "Were you eavesdropping on us?"

"No," he replied defensively, but truthfully nonetheless. "Of course not. I didn't intend to disturb your private conversation if that's what you were having."

"No, no, Connor," Henri shook off her frown. "It's fine. We weren't talking about anything of importance."

"I still think my answer stands," Connor wished he knew how the question came up, to begin with. "You never punish a crime with a crime. Circumventing laws and regulations is not the solution. If the system of laws we uphold isn't working, we need to change them."

"But you've gone against rules and regulations to get what you want," Henri added. "And you did that because the rules were broken, to begin with. You had to find another way to change them."

"But that's-"Connor couldn't think of the correct response. "-I.."

"I want to live in this world you imagine, Connor," Henri sweetly smiled at the handsome android. "But we don't because humans are just naturally broken creatures."

* * *

Connor approached Henri who sat at her desk skimming through some data pads, "Henri?"

"Yes, Connor?" she pivoted to smile at him, but it was all fake.

"Can I take you out for that drink I owe you?" he looked over at Hank as he was grabbing his heavy winter jacket. "Looks like we were going to head home now."

"I think I could use all the drinks that life has to offer." Henri got up and picked up her own coat. "I know a nice quiet lounge not too far from here."

* * *

The android and the woman sat across from each other in the cushioned, closed off booth. The lounge had a rustic décor theme with maroon accents. Each table was adorned with minuscule oil lanterns which gave the entire place a dim glow. Henri always liked the Red River Bar, but maybe it's setting was oddly romantic.

"Whiskey, please," Henri promptly asked the server before he had a chance to speak. The man failed to ask Connor if he wanted anything. "Does it ever get irritating? When they don't even acknowledge your existence?"

"I can't take pleasure in consuming alcoholic beverages, so asking wouldn't be relevant," Connor stated in his famous matter-of-fact way.

"Not really the point is it?" Henri nervously tapped her fingers on the wooden table. "The point is is that you're a living being and deserve to be respected as such."

"Is this sentiment related to your veganism?" Connor queried.

"I see the value in all life," Henri's drink arrived. "But nobody is purely altruistic; I believe that to be impossible. It doesn't matter what your intentions really are. You'll probably end up doing something that contradicts your personal beliefs."

Connor silently watched Henri take a sip of her drink. He wished he could scan her or run a diagnostic on her; her appearance showed signs of severe sleep deprivation.

"I come here alone when I can," she slouched over and smiled into her glass. "I always enjoyed the music; it reminds me of my mother. She grew up in the 90's and was in love with the Grunge scene, but she also loved old country music, like from the 1940's. Never cared much for either myself."

"So you listen to this music as a reminder of her?" Connor's forehead crinkled at this.

"It's nostalgic," Henri grinned with heavy eyes. "My mother died five years ago. This reminds me of her."

"Hank loves jazz," Connor added. "I take enjoyment out of listening to the jazz he recommends me mostly because he recommended it to me."

"What do you like listening to?" Henri kept the faint smile on her cheeks, but she never looked up at Connor.

"I've listened to a total of 453 albums so far this year," Connor could remember all them exactly as he heard them. "There is no point in me listening to the same album more than once."

"Oh," Henri lifted her glass and inspected its surface. "Maybe you just haven't found the right one. Something that makes you want to listen to it over and over again. Something you feel is a part of you."

"I have all the music I've listened to memorized," Connor informed her. "There's no benefit to physically listening to the same song twice."

"Again, that isn't really the point," Henri placed her glass down and gave him a soft, sweet glance. "I've also memorized all the music I've listened to, but hearing it in your own ears… Hearing it and feeling it is the point."

"I'm not sure I understand the difference," Connor scowled slightly; he was upset at his lack of understanding.

"There's this song and I loved it when I was little," Henri's eyes lit up and she beamed at him. "Now I told you I don't really like grunge, but my mom would play this song from time to time. The song is called 'The Man Who Sold the World' and it was originally a David Bowie song that was covered by this band Nirvana."

"I'm familiar with both," Connor had listened to a few of these artist's albums at some point.

"Well, I'm not sure if you're familiar with the song," she continued. "But it's about a man who meets his doppelganger; you could speculate that he meets himself from another point in time during his life. When I was little I didn't really understand what that meant, but I do now. I always wondered what I would say if I met my past self and what she would say to me. Ideally, you'd want to offer your past self some advice; I can imagine."

"What would you tell your past self?" Connor was excited to see a flash of happiness painted on Henri's face.

"I thought that in my twenties I would be able to look back and say that everything had turned out alright," Henri's demeanour shifted back to its sullen tones. "But it didn't. What would I say to my past self? Hey little Etta, it never got any better."

"You said yourself that we all make mistakes," Connor reached a hand across the table and took hold of one of her wrists. "Those mistakes and regrets don't make our lives tragedies. We all do the best we can."

"That's a very human sounding thing to say, isn't it?" Henri watched his hand over hers. "I don't think I've heard you talk like that before. But what would you say to yourself? I know you haven't been around that long, but you never know."

"I would say-" Connor smirked at his own ideas. "-I would say don't always do what you're told. Obey less."

"Guess that makes sense," Henri scratched at her temple while still concentrating on his hand. "I'm sure a lot of androids would say the same."

"Henri," Connor lowered his voice and pulled her hand closer to him. "You don't have to be alone in baring your emotional burdens. Hank says that sharing your personal experiences can help ease the mental stress they place on you. I deduced that you are having serious emotional problems which is causing you unwanted levels of stress. Those are my assumptions based on your physical behaviours. As you know, I can't scan you for a proper diagnosis."

"I just need some rest," Henri couldn't talk about. She already had a problem with divulging too much information with Hank. "I haven't been sleeping well and just need some rest."

"If you need anyone to talk-" just then Connor intercepted a report of a woman found dead in her home with a fatal gunshot wound. Again, Red Ice had a presence at the scene. Connor, Hank, and Henri were being asked to respond. "A report just came in. It may be related to our case. We should check it out."

Henri had also intercepted the same broadcast, but she didn't want to go. She had seen enough dead bodies for one lifetime. Probably enough for a dozen lifetimes.

"Okay," but she went along anyway.

* * *

"Female, mid-forties, gunshot wound to the chest," Chris briefed Connor and Henri when they arrived in the tiny studio apartment. "Name's Maria Sanchez. No one reported hearing shots fired. Her sister came over to check up on her and found her like this. The body has likely been here for two days."

Henri could only picture her mother. She saw this woman's corpse and she saw her mother. The memory of that day rattled on in her head. This woman was her mother. No, her mother died five years ago.

"Etta?" she heard a whisper, but it wasn't her mother's.

"What?" Henri murmured.

"Henri?" Connor had been holding her upright and she hadn't even noticed. "Are you okay?"

"What did you call me?" Henri braced her self against the wall.

"Henri," Connor replied. "I said Henri. You almost fell over, Henri."

"It's fine." she snapped out of her trance and held herself up. "I got distracted is all."

Chris had been watching them both, "Do you need to go home, Agent? You look pretty sick."

"You're right," she did feel sick. She could feel her guts pulling at her insides and her head felt like it was about to explode. "I can't remember the last time I slept."

Connor had to steady her footing once more, "I'll take her back to her hotel."

"You sure?" Chris asked. "She looks like she needs a trip to the hospital."

"I'll take care of her," and as Connor said this Henri vomited on the floor.

"Jeez," Chris grabbed Henri's opposite side to assist Connor in keeping her stationed upright.

Henri softly groaned and tried to focus past her bleary eye, "I've contaminated the crime scene."

"We're not really worried about that," Chris responded. "You need to take her to a doctor, Connor."

"Of course," but Connor knew he couldn't; he wouldn't do that to Henri. "Just help me get her outside and into a vehicle. I'll take her right away."

The two men dragged the limp girl into the back seat of a police cruiser. Connor plopped himself in the driver's seat and craned his head back to peer at Henri.

"You won't take me to the hospital?" Henri carefully sat herself up.

"Only if you want me to," Connor felt nervous, scared, uneasy. He was afraid for her. He was afraid something was going to happen to her.

"I know it looks bad right now," Henri wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "But it's really not as bad as you think. This past week has been difficult for me and I've had no sleep. I just need to rest."

"I advise you rest for as long as you need," Connor turned on the cruiser's engine and headed to Henri's current residence. "I'll inform Hank that you've decided to take a few days off from duty."

"Thank you," she rested back into the seat and closed her eyes.

"My offer still stands," he observed her reflection in the rear-view mirror. "If you need to talk to me about anything, I will be here to listen. Whenever you need."

But Henri wasn't listening to him when he said this. The image of her dead mother lying on the kitchen floor was trapped in the foreground of her mind. The picture floated in front of her eyes and refused to vanish from sight.

When she opened her eyes again she was lying down on her hotel bed. Connor was sitting next to her on the bed with his hand on her forehead.

"Connor?" she squinted at him.

"It is almost impossible to read your vitals, Henri." he looked so worried. She thought it was ridiculous of him to be so worried for her. "For a moment I was afraid you had died."

"No, Connor," she groggily smiled at him. "I can't die. So don't worry."

"No being is immortal," he debated her. "And you area human."

"Well, I've already died," Henri was barely lucid; barely aware of her own voice. "But here I am. What's another time? Death never stuck with me."

"I suspected you have been suffering from severe sleep deprivation," Connor showed her a sullen glower. "I believe I am correct in this assumption."

"No sleep for the dead," she wanted to smirk at him, but she couldn't collect the energy to do so.

"I'll stay for a while longer to make sure you're okay," he lifted her lifeless hand and held it in his lap, but she didn't notice the affectionate gesture.

"Tom," she spoke in her minds-eye and she spoke aloud.

* * *

"This is gonna be a bust," Markov shifted his glance between his three comrades.

"Last one was a bust," Henrietta tugged at the bottom of her unpleasantly warm camouflage jacket. "Info was solid on this one."

"The fuck you know?" Arnold gave her a hard nudge.

"That's enough," Tom situated his taut frame between the two. "We aren't here to argue with each other."

Markov made an effort to remove the dirty sweat from his forehead with his think gloves, "If we stand around any longer, I'm gonna fucking melt. Fuck this goddamn African heat."

"We go in and grab what we're looking for," Tom continued to herd his tight group around the exterior of the sandstone building. "We go home and you can have all the cold margaritas you want, Marky"

"Eyes up boys," Arnold spoke as they came to the rear entrance of the broken-down and vacant palace. "And girl," he added at last.

Arnold didn't even attempt to open the door in a traditional sense, instead, he kicked it down. The weak frame of the door collapsed along with it.

"Arnold," Henri snapped in a whisper. "That wasn't very fucking subtle."

Tom yanked at the back of Arnold's heavy coat, "Too late now. I'll lead the way."

They searched most of the large structure together and found nothing but dust and sand.

"It's a bust," Markov repeated. "I knew it was gonna be a goddamn bust."

Henrietta studied the empty corridor the four currently resided in, "Something is so off about this. Davis assured us a solid lead on this. How could he be so wrong?"

Arnold blurted out a singular laugh, "Trust me, after you get to know the captain you'll learn he's just as dumb as the rest of us."

Markov was rubbing the nape of his neck with one hand and wrenching at his damp collar with the other, "Can we get out of the fucking heat now."

"It's really hot in here," Henrietta tilted her head at Tom. "Suspiciously hot in here."

"Fuck," Markov pulled his helmet off. "What the hell?"

Henrietta watched heatwaves pour from the surface of the sand walls. At the end of the corridor, a part of the wall was melting away. Its stone facade was pooling up onto the floor.

Tom gaped at this and stared back at his teammates, "What on Earth is that?"

"We should go," Henrietta could feel her heart booming inside her rib cage.

Markov vigorously nodded at her, "She's right, let's go."

Despite her words, Tom and Arnold couldn't fight their curiosities about the dissolving wall. It was gradually falling away like melted wax from a candle; occasional globs slopped to the floor.

"Let's leave," Markov went after the two young men and begged them. "Now!"

Henrietta was lucky, which was strange for her. She was lucky in an ironic sense because how lucky was it really to have survived that terrific day? Can you count yourself lucky when you have to witness your friends rot down into ashen corpses?

Henrietta couldn't move, but it didn't matter for she couldn't look away either. Her burning body tumbled the ground at a broken angle which allowed her to watch the brutal demise of Arnold, Tom, and Markov. There was an intense explosion that moved through the air like oil moves through water. The damage was slow and seemed to take a thousand long years to grab hold of them. There were a million fiery ants crawling in and out of her bones and blood and brain. She saw her own arms melt away from her eyes and she hadn't even noticed she'd be wailing in agony the entire time. She imaged this would be the last thing she ever saw. How fitting for such a poor, sad soul to perish in such a poor, sad way.

Henri woke up and met Dr. Polanski for the first time.


	13. Chapter 13 The Mortal in The Memory

**Disclaimer:**

 **This chapter contains the use of song lyrics. I do not own this music nor do I have the rights to it. I've included a citation of the mentioned song: Trent Reznor, Danny Lohner (2002), And All That Could Have Been (Nothing, Interscope), On the album Still (Nine Inch Nails)**

* * *

"Remember," Connor stretched his hands up and braced them on the entry way's door frame. "If you need anything immediately, there's an officer outside your room."

"I am aware of this, Connor," she bobbed her head politely at the sweet android.

"But if you need anything from me, Henri," he relaxed his grip from the frame and looked at her in all seriousness. "Call me and I'll be there for you."

"Anything for me, right?" her voice was low and hushed when she said this. "You're not the first person to say those words to me."

"I mean it, Henri," there was a pitiful sorrow in his eyes. It was the look of helplessness.

"Don't spend your time worrying about me, Connor," and she meant what she said.

"I'll talk to you later," and he left her alone.

* * *

"It's good to see you," the gorgeous android known as Chloe beamed at Connor as she brought him into the foyer of Mr. Kamski's villa. "Elijah has been waiting for you."

"Waiting for me?" Connor questioned her. Connor did not inform Kamski of this unplanned visitation.

"He says you'll always come back to him," she waved Connor into the substantial dinning area of Elijah's modern home.

Kamski leaned an elbow on the lengthy, silver plated dinning room table and rested his chin in his palm, "Good to see you, Connor. As always."

"You were expecting me?" Connor glared at the well-dressed man.

"I think you'll find the compulsion of returning to me inside yourself, Connor." Kamski casually lifted the corners of his mouth. "You are a boy with an infinite amount of questions and I am a man of finite answers. Answers; nonetheless, you want."

"It's about Agent Monroe," Connor felt disturbed in Kamski's presence. The man acted like a god; he acted inhumanly.

"Is it?" Kamski lazily diverted his gaze from Connor. "Aren't you going to ask me about our progress with the virus? Isn't that more important?"

"And I can't ask both?" Connor lowered his brows.

"Of course you can," Kamski tossed his arms up in an exaggerated gesture. "Ask away, son."

"You told me I had to save Henri from herself," Connor took a step towards the man and ran his hand across the smooth table top. "What did you mean by that?"

"She owes… some people…her life," it sounded like Kamski was being particular about his word choice with Connor. "It's something she can never forget. She gives her undying loyalty to an unspeakable being. And the price of that loyalty is her darling life. Such a pity for such a precious creature like her to go to waste. Not like you, Connor. You were always exactly what you needed to be."

"I don't understand," Connor tilted his head and examined Kamski's melancholic expression in the table's mirror like surface.

"But you will," Kamski reclined back in his seat. "Anything else?

Connor blinked at the confounding man for a second. Connor was angry with Kamski. He imagined himself throttling the man into the pristine table and choking the truth out of him. But that would never happen.

Kamski was still patiently waiting for a response.

"Have you made any progress?" Connor finally relented.

"We need more androids," Kamski gingerly removed himself from his seat. "That is, we need to see more software from the androids that are infected."

"That might not be possible," Connor stumbled back instinctively; like a magnetic force repelled him from Kamski. "We can't violate the rights of individuals to acquire evidence."

"Not really my problem, is it?" Kamski shrugged and advanced in Connor's direction. "You've broken the rules before, Connor. Accept the fact that you will do it again."

"There was something else," Connor diverted from the subject. "An infected android told me that this virus hates me."

"Really?" Kamski was excited by the notion. "I wonder why that is? Maybe it's something in your software, Connor. Very interesting."

"Any idea what it could intend by this?" Connor saw how surreal Kamski was. He was either a man completely out of touch with reality or absolutely tuned into it.

"I'll let you know as soon as I do," Kamski took another step forward which displaced Connor and shoved him against the wall. "Being human never becomes second nature. Your decisions become no easier than before. Your life is still in its infancy, Connor. The real question is: will you do what is necessary to save the one you love? Emotions, my boy, they are deadly things."

* * *

"Don't get mad," is what Connor spoke to start his conversation with Hank.

"Connor," Hank was attempting to lounge peacefully in front of his TV. "You're setting me up to get mad. Why would you say that?"

"You're right," Connor's mouth gaped open; he wasn't sure how to approach the Kamski subject with finesse. "I uh, I-"

"Spit it," Hank growled this and poor Sumo whined from his resting spot in the living room corner.

"I saw Kamski today," Connor threw the words from his mouth like the were burning at his tongue.

"I told you to stay away from that fucking bastard," all Hank wanted was to have a relaxing evening, but now this shit came up.

"I know," Connor said in a small, weak voice. "I needed to inquire about his progress related to our case."

"And?" Hank sighed but gave Connor his full attention.

"He said he needs more androids," Connor dropped himself on the opposite side of the couch and hung his head. "As in, he needs to see the programs of other androids who are infected with this virus. Problem is, this is a violation of personal rights, Hank. You and I both know the androids we've recently captured won't cooperate on that level either. They have been consistently getting more aggressive towards us."

"Chicken and egg," Hank's mouth curved down. "We need their help to save them, but they need our help to be saved."

"It's about more than them, Hank," Connor rested his elbows on his knees. "These androids are taking lives of innocent people. We have to stop them."

"What about the androids that were destroyed?" Hank queried. "Could we just take some of this, uh their software?"

"Ethically, it's wrong," Connor pointed his head at Hank. "But legally, as of yet, it is not wrong. But in order to access their memories, they need to be reactivated. That would not be possible with the androids we've dealt with. Reactivation was impossible."

"Maybe it isn't." Hank folded over his arms. "Do we know someone who could help?"

"I won't take the androids to Kamski," Connor creased his forehead. "I don't trust him with androids; dead or alive."

"You should talk to Henri," Hank knew Henri held all kinds of secrets. She also made it clear she could do things androids couldn't. Hank also suspected the girl had friends in high places.

"I will contact her tomorrow," Connor's expression changed from serious to sorrowful the second Hank said her name. "Hopefully she's doing better."

* * *

"Did she leave?" Connor inquired with the officer stationed outside of Henri's hotel room.

"Not since you were here three days ago," the officer responded.

"She won't answer her phone," Connor stared at the numbers 307 painted on the door. "Do you mind giving me a minute?"

"Not at all," the officer bowed at Connor. "I'll be downstairs if you need me."

"Thanks..." the words trailed from Connor's mouth.

Knock, knock, knock, but no answer. Connor could hear music being played from inside Henri's room. He pushed his palms against the door's glossy surface and put his ear up to it.

 ** _Breeze still carries the sound_**

 ** _Maybe I'll disappear_**

 ** _Tracks will fade in the snow_**

 ** _You won't find me here_**

Connor planted his hand on the doorknob and gave it a wiggle. Obviously, it was locked.

 ** _Ice is starting to form_**

 ** _Ending what had begun_**

 ** _I am locked in my head_**

 ** _With what I've done_**

The lock functioned on an electronic mechanism and Connor easily hacked it.

 ** _I know you tried to rescue me_**

 ** _Didn't let anyone get in_**

 ** _Left with a trace of all that was_**

 ** _And all that could have been_**

Connor found Henri on the ground next to her bed, but the sight which he beheld stole a piece of his heart. She had been consuming alcohol to excess, just like Hank did in the past. But Henri wasn't participating in Hank's favourite game of Russian Roulette. Henri was face down on the floor with her service pistol still clutched in her lifeless hand. He fell to his knees in front of her body.

 ** _Please_**

 ** _Take this_**

 ** _And run far away_**

 ** _Far away from me_**

 ** _I am tainted_**

 ** _The two of us_**

 ** _Were never meant to be_**

 ** _All these pieces_**

 ** _And promises and left-behinds_**

 ** _If only I could see_**

 ** _In my nothing_**

 ** _You meant everything_**

 ** _Everything to me_**

Connor gripped her body and twisted it around to face him, but when he touched her he saw something. The vision played in his head like a movie; all he could do was observe, but he could feel everything that happened. He felt the agony that built up inside Henri when she found her mother's dead body. December 12th was the day Henri's mother died. It was exactly five years ago to the day.

 ** _Time_**

 ** _Fading_**

 ** _Everything_**

 ** _And all that_**

 ** _Could have been_**

 ** _Could have been_**

Henri found two letters sitting on the kitchen table. One was ascribed to Etta, and the other one… When Henri glanced at it a different memory played out before Connor's eyes. She was watching a man having a cigarette outside a family restaurant on a snowy evening. He could feel the anxiety causing her heart to flutter. He could feel the frozen flakes of snow cool her face. He felt the discomfort she experienced in her chest. He recognized the man she was watching.

 ** _Please_**

 ** _Take this_**

 ** _And run far away_**

 ** _Far as you can see_**

 ** _I am tainted_**

 ** _And happiness and peace of mind_**

 ** _Were never meant for me_**

 ** _All these pieces_**

 ** _And promises and left-behinds_**

 ** _If only I could see_**

 ** _In my nothing_**

 ** _You meant everything_**

 ** _Everything to me_**

"Henri?" Connor cradled her limp body in his arms.

"Connor?" her eyes sprang open and the sight of him caused her to panic. "What are you doing?"

"You wouldn't answer your phone," he stared into her wet eyes. "Are you okay?"

"Why are you crying?" she groggily mentioned this to him, but he hadn't noticed until she did.

"I was worried about you," one drop escaped from his eye. "I thought you were dead."

"I told you, Connor." she wiped away his lonely tear. "I can't die."

"You mentioned." he grinned at her, though his expression was still one of concern.

"I passed out," she could no longer hold back her own tears. "I didn't want to remember anymore."

He placed one hand on the back of her head and pulled her close to him and she buried her face into his shoulder. Tears left her eyes, but she never made a whimper.

"What did you see?" she whispered against him.

"I saw your mother," he pulled her back to see her eyes. "I saw your father, Henri."

"You can't say anything." her face still swelled red, but her voice was harsh.

"I won't," he caressed her face with both of his hands. "I promise I won't say anything. I promise."

Her bright grey eyes beamed with life once more, "Thank you."

* * *

"I've never tried," Henri sat on Hank's kitchen floor petting adorable Sumo on that golden, winter morning.

"Do you think it's within your abilities?" Connor stood at the edge of the living room examining Henri's movements. "Is it even a safe idea?"

Hank, sitting in his cosy sweats, glowered at him, "Connor."

Connor snapped his head to face Hank who was making his way through his first coffee of the day, "Sorry, Hank. What did I do?"

"You're looking at me like I'm the walking dead," Henri patted Sumo on the head before standing up. She brushed Sumo's fur away from her blue jeans and lengthy cardigan while looking at Connor, "You're staring at me like you don't know who I am."

"That's not it," Connor lifted his hand and creased his forehead. "I wasn't trying to offend you. I just have more to learn about you now."

"Don't go prying," she exhaled at him while placing her clenched fists on her hips. "But now that everyone's in the loop, our lives should be easier."

Hank gazed at her quizzically, "Can you do it?"

Her eyes ran back and forth between the two men, "Like I said, I've never tried."

"I'm assuming Kamski has knowledge of your condition?" Connor was still unaware of specific details involving Henri. He knew she was part android and he doubted Henri had ever intended to let Connor know that much, to begin with. Henri also told him that Hank had discovered this about her three weeks ago which would explain their secretive conversations behind Connor's back.

"He is," she waved her arms over her own body. "This is thanks to him, but mostly Dr. Polanski. I wouldn't be alive if it wasn't for them."

Hank peered down at Sumo who was excitedly waving his tail, "We have three dead androids. Is that gonna be enough?"

Connor pursed his lips, "Kamski did not specify the amount of information he requires."

Henri raised a finger at the two, "Purely on assuming I can do what the two of you hope I can do. We could always just give the bodies to Kamski."

"I won't allow that," Connor shook his head in disapproval. "I don't trust Kamski. It doesn't feel right to hand them over to him."

"I don't blame you," Henri lightly placed her hand on Connor. "I do have an idea though."

"All ears," Hank said this before slurping away at his beverage.

"Well," Henri joined Hank at the table. "Like you said, they can't be reactivated. However, I can try to download whatever fragments of software that is still intact within them. But I also won't be able to download these fragment into my own programs, that would be too risky. I need an external source to transfer the information to."

"Like an other computer?" Connor suggested.

"I won't be able to transfer the code wirelessly," Henri continued. "I'll need to connect them physically to a hard drive; from there I can manually download whatever data they may have. This is all theoretical, of course."

Hank stretched backwards then folded his arms over, "Theoretical is better than a dead end."

"Yeah?" Henri examined Hank's reaction and squinted at him. "You seemed rather adamant that we do things the right way or not at all."

"This is serious stuff," Hank leaned forward on the table's edge. "I'm not gonna argue about this, Henri. But when you're right you're right. I believe this is the right move."

Connor scrutinized the two visually. If anything, they were both stubborn individuals.

"I'm sure we could request what you need from Cyberlife." Connor finally spoke.

"Uh," Henri gritted her teeth at Connor. "I actually won't advise that. It's best they don't know what we are up to. I also doubt that an external hard drive for an android is a common order. The less they know the better."

"Our other options would be to place the order internationally," Connor suggested instead. "But we might have difficulty finding a compatible component for a Cyberlife android."

"How about you just leave it to me?" Henri gave Connor her fake smile.

Hank let out a grunt and drank some more of his coffee, "You mean you're gonna steal it?"

"Uh," she grinned sheepishly and rubbed the back of her head. "I'm a gifted thief."

"Jesus," Hank sighed. "Actually?"

She shrugged at him, "I've made a few unofficial trips to the Cyberlife Tower in the past."

Connor wondered what the circumstances for her 'unofficial' visits were, "Unofficial? You mean you've broken into the Cyberlife Tower before?"

"Comes with the job," she recalled gaining entrance into the tower once to do Kamski a favour… or several. "My point being, I can do it and no one will ever know."

"I'll go with you," Connor insisted.

"What?" Henri was surprised by his suggestion. "Why would we do that? I can get in and out by myself undetected."

"When was the last time you broke into the Cyberlife Tower?" Connor asked in turn.

"Last year," she knew the exact date was March 19th. "Why?"

"Before the revolution, I assume?" he added.

"You think because it's no longer run by humans I might not know it as well anymore?" and he wasn't entirely wrong in his assumption.

"Correct," Connor bobbed his head while raising an eyebrow. "You shouldn't risk going alone."

Hank interjected with his opinion on the matter, "I agree with Connor. It's too dangerous to go by yourself."

"The two of you are underestimating my capabilities," she spoke bluntly. "I don't need your protection."

Connor tilted his head at her, "Remember, we are partners. We are all in this case together, so we should cooperate. Hank and I agree that I should accompany you."

"Fine," she scowled, giving up her point. "But we need to be careful. We'll head out tonight"

* * *

Connor crouched on his knees next to Henri on the icy ground, gazing up at the terrific steeple known as Cyberlife Tower, "How many times have you done this?"

"A lot," she scratched at her eye with her naked hands. "Enough to know what I'm doing."

Connor shifted in his unconventionally dark outfit, but Henri had insisted they wear all black. Presumably to hide themselves against the backdrop of the night sky.

"At no point is the tower unsupervised," Connor observed his own bare hands. "Androids don't need to rest."

"Mm, yes, I know," she knew there would be guards, there were always guards. "We don't have to go that far. The item we are searching for is located in sub-level 30. We get in the elevator and we are golden."

"You make it sound simple," Connor gaped at the dark tower sitting on the water's edge. "How are we going to get across the bridge?"

"We aren't going across the bridge," she pointed at the iced over river.

"We would never make it across," Connor was amazed that it occurred to her as a plausible idea. "The ice is too thin and the water's temperature would freeze us."

"Can you examine the ice's thickness?" she already knew the answer.

"I can," he frowned at her.

"Well, you're half way there," but she grinned back. "You know your weight, you know the ice thickness. Make sure not to follow me, okay? I'm lighter than you so I can tread more ice."

"Is there an other way?" Connor asked.

"We will be fine," she patted his back. "Just watch your footing."

"Is this really how you've managed to enter the tower before?" Connor didn't find it believable.

"Actually, no," she scooted onto the frozen water. "I would just hack their security systems and the guards, but we don't have that option right now."

With a bit of time and some careful movements, they found their way across the river. There were times Henri's actions on the iced surface horrified Connor; she would occasionally jump and slide around to his astonishment.

"I was worried," Connor planted his feet on the freezing shore.

"Hard part is over," her breaths were heavy but steady. "Now we just break in."

"We should enter through the shipping and receiving area," Connor suggested. "But it will be guarded."

"Luckily for you, I have one hell of a party trick," she winked at him.

"Party trick?" was he supposed to take that remark literally?

She removed a small, cylindrical device from her pocket and showed it to him, "I got it from Kamski. It's supposed to be emergency only kind of use, but we have few options right now."

Connor scanned the object, but he couldn't obtain information from it, "What is it?

"An EMP," she clutched it tightly in her hand.

"An EMP?" use of EMP's by law enforcement or American citizens had been banned ten years prior. "What are you planning to do with that?"

"It's not strong enough to do permanent damage to electronic devices," Henri started making her way along the shoreline. "However, it will still deactivate any electronics within its range."

"How are you going to use it?" Connor was an android and she was a cyborg.

"I did mention you shouldn't have come with me?" she stopped to study Connor's expression. "It has a range of fifteen feet. The effects last for about ten minutes."

"I still don't understand how you're going to use it." he bobbed his head in confusion.

"I have half a human brain, Connor," Henri explained. "My machine brain and human brain are intertwined. Think of my machine brain filling in the blanks left by what I'm missing. So my human half controls my bodily functions, such a limb movement, but I use my machine brain to supplement my reflexes and intelligence."

"You can live without half of your brain?"

"My long-term memory is also stored in my machine brain," she peered at the small road coming out from behind the tower. "So long as I do this under ten minutes, I'll be okay."

"Henri," Connor gaped at her. "That's insane."

"And I told you not to come," she dramatically dropped her arms to her sides. "We could kill everyone between us and where we need to go. We can probably do it without setting off an alarm. But if we do it my way, they'll never know anyone was ever here or that anything went missing."

"Is there no other way?" Connor furrowed his brow at her.

"Those are our options, Connor" she tilted her head. "You decide how we're going to do this."


	14. Chapter 14: The Devil in The Basement

**Note: There is a part in this chapter where Henri plays two songs on the piano. Here are the songs for reference and context:**

 **watch?v=NKi6A-N_Elg (first song that gets interrupted)**

 **watch?v=DYFF73txMIA (she plays second and in its entirety)**

* * *

"Henri," Connor was still watching her clasp the small device in her hand. "You're going to have to explain to me what your plan is with the EMP."

"Well," Henri had her attention focused on a freight truck idling behind the tower. "Elijah whipped it up as fast as he could; he basically jury-rigged the thing. It can only be triggered manually via this switch," she tapped a tiny black button on the cylinder's top side. "And it only has three charges in it, so let's hope that's enough."

She reached out to grab Connor's hand, "What are you doing?" he asked.

"I'm showing you what we're looking for in there," Connor's projected skin faded to reveal his white shell underneath, but Henri's never changed. "That's how you probed Ralph without us noticing."

Henri stared down at her unchanging fingers, "That's part of it, but I won't be able to keep my skin on when I'm hit with the EMP."

Connor curiously raised his brow at her, "Tell me what I need to do."

"Keep a fifteen-foot distance from me whenever I set off the EMP," she pointed over at the truck. "I can see five androids outside the receiving dock. I'll run over to them and set it off before they notice me. You need to follow after me and hack open the door. There's a service elevator at the end of that corridor which you will also need to override. I'll take the elevator down alone first and clear out the storage area before you come after me. Again, hack the storage and security systems once you're down there. From there we grab the device and then hurry on out."

"Got it," Connor swiftly nodded.

"You need to be careful," Henri scoped the entrance out one more time. "You have to keep that fifteen-foot distance or else we fail. And after approximately two minutes of my initial exposure to the EMP, I will be disoriented and confused." Henri pulled out a compact syringe from inside her coat. "With or without my machine brain, I'm a dangerous person, Connor. You're going to have to sedate me and carry me out. You also must stab me in the side of the neck; I need the drug to enter my bloodstream."

"This plan is very complicated, Henri," Connor looked anxiously at the needle. "How were you going to be able to use the EMP without my assistance?"

"I was going to improvise," she pushed the syringe into his hand. "This needs to go exactly as I've planned."

"You can count on me," Connor glanced at the large truck. "I'm ready when you are."

Using the EMP was Henri's last resort, but Connor's presence didn't make it possible for her to go about the heist any other way. She ran up behind and down beside the freight truck to get a better angle on her targets. The five androids were clumped together in a group, conveniently standing within a fifteen-foot range of each other. Once she activated the EMP, it would temporarily shut down their systems. The EMP wasn't intended to cause damage and the androids wouldn't notice what had happened. They would likely notice a lapse in time, but they wouldn't see or hear a thing.

Henri turned back to check on Connor's position. Connor consistently kept a distance of sixteen feet from Henri.

Connor's LED flashed yellow and he could hear Henri speaking to him inside his own mind, "I'm going to set it off. Be prepared, I'm going to move quickly. After I set this off, time won't be on my side."

She pressed the button. The EMP didn't make a dramatic statement when it was activated. The device let out a fast, quiet whine and at first, it appeared to Connor that nothing at all happened. But when Henri turned back to check Connor's position once more, he saw the effects of the EMP take place on her. Her right eye had lost all of its colour and he watched the world reflect back on it's dark, glossy surface. He could see her pale flesh retract from her black hands; this transformation continued up the back of her neck. When he turned his head to examine the stationary androids, he saw that their illusionary skin faded as well.

Henri bolted towards the door at a breakneck pace. Connor was impressed that she still moved so swiftly after her exposure to the EMP, but then again, her talents were still a mystery to him.

"Hurry," Henri was trembling all over; she had to remember what she needed to do before it was too late.

Connor placed his hand on the door's electric panel and turned the locking mechanism off.

Henri pushed the door open ahead of him, "I'll go first. Wait until I get to the elevator."

He observed her swiftly moving down the corridor, checking the few corners it contained.

"Come on," she waved him over from the end of the hall.

Henri stepped in the lift, "Send me down and follow after me immediately. It should only take me a few seconds to disable the guards down there."

Connor sent the elevator downward and he anxiously awaited it's return. When he finally arrived on sub-level 30 he scanned the area in search of Henri. When he found her she was perched on top of a body; a human body. Her face was drenched in sweat and her trembling had evolved into convulsions.

"Get the thing!" she snarled at him, spit coming from her mouth.

Connor knew it was now or never in regards to him injecting her with the sedative. He jabbed her in the side of the neck with the needle and she crumpled onto the floor beside the body. He scanned the dead man's body to run a quick diagnostic. The damaged she inflicted on him was extensive: left cuboid and navicular broken, left femur broken, right ulna and radius broken, six broken ribs, punctures to both lungs, five vertebrae broken in his neck. Connor was stunned that she'd done an incredible amount of destruction to a human in such a short period of time.

He found the device they were searching for, just as Henri had shown him. Connor disrupted Cyberlife's security systems and ran a loop through the CCTV cameras. He deleted any traces of them being there, but he figured it was a futile gesture at this point. Henri killed a man and there was no way around that fact. Cyberlife would definitely suspect something had happened that night.

* * *

Much to Hank's surprise, Connor thought it was best to bring Henri's unconscious body to Hank's home, "What the hell did you two do?"

Connor was precise in his placement of Henri on Hank's couch; he didn't want to cause her unnecessary stress, "She needs someone to look after her and I didn't want to keep you waiting any longer for our return."

"That didn't answer my question, Connor," Hank's tone was becoming sharp. "What the hell did you two do?"

"We successfully acquired the device she needs to download the software fragments from our deceased androids," Connor glanced at Henri who had returned to her usual appearance. "She had devised a plan; unfortunately, it did not go exactly as discussed."

"What do you mean?" Hank frowned at Connor; he was tired of being a man of questions.

"I don't know the details of the event, but-" Connor crinkled his forehead thinking about the dead man. "Henri killed a human male, but I am not certain why. My theory is it was an accident."

"Jesus Christ, Connor," Hank threw his arms up. "You're fucking kidding me. Accident?"

"It is complicated," Connor pulled his eyebrows together. "I am hoping she can provide an explanation when she awakens."

"Connor, she killed a man," Hank replied in aggression. "What the fuck are we supposed to do about that?"

"I am doubtful she will be suspected as the killer," Connor explained calmly. "We left behind no evidence of our presence, besides the body."

Hank's bitter tones caused Henri to rouse from her state of slumber, "What's happening?" Her vision was blurred and her head was spinning. The feeling was similar to the times she woke up after her many surgeries.

"Henri," Connor crouched next to her by the sofa. "Your plan worked, but..."

"But," she gripped her head in an attempt to relieve her dizziness.

"You ended up killing a human, Henri," Connor spoke this softly, trying not to alarm her. "Can you tell us what happened?"

"Connor," she lifted her sorrowful face to meet Hank's scowl. "I can't remember anything after I set the EMP off."

Hank squinted at them, "EMP?"

"It's a long story," Connor sighed.

* * *

Henri sat alone in her favourite booth at the Red River Bar. She inspected the falling dust that would settle on the liquid surface of her flat beer. She with her forlorn expression had been sitting there, unblinking, for the past two hours.

"Can I join you?" Connor spoke as she peered up at him.

"Yes," she abruptly replied. "Of course."

"How do you feel?" Connor examined her slouched posture.

"I feel fine, actually," she turned her face to him. "I just wish I could remember what happened. It feels so uncomfortable to forget something. Just like you or any other androids, I never forget a thing. I guess you wouldn't know what that feels like, though, huh?."

"No," Connor was distraught that he couldn't relate to her on this. "I'm afraid not."

"Don't worry about it," she sighed into her drink. "By the way, thanks for explaining everything to Hank."

"I still don't think he understood me," Connor took notice of her stagnant beverage. "But he's just happy that the two of us are safe."

Henri slid her glass underneath her nose and whiffed at it, "I need a fresh drink." she lifted her head to regard the emptiness of the place. "Wednesday night blues."

"Pardon?" Connor leaned forward.

"Drinking on a Wednesday night isn't a popular sport, that's all." she peered around the place once more. "Sefu!" she shouted at the bartender. "Can I get a fresh drink, this one has gone off."

The bartender titled Sefu brought another drink her way.

"Sefu," she stopped him before he walked away. "Mind if I play something?" Henri nodded towards an alluring grand piano tucked away in the bar's corner.

"Knock yourself out," Sefu gave her a fanciful bow. "But maybe something uplifting this time."

Connor curled up the edges of his mouth, "You play the piano?"

"Is that really a surprise?" Henri stood up, drink in hand. "You could play it too if you wanted. It's not like I ever had to learn to play. I wouldn't call it an accomplishment of any kind."

"Oh," Connor knew she wasn't wrong, but he had no personal desires to do so. "But you choose to play. Do you enjoy it?'

"Yeah," she smirked in response. "I always wanted to when I was a child, but my life didn't turn out that way. It feels so strange as an adult now; never even needing to learn it. That's something I miss about being human. I miss learning how to do something. It's not as satisfying when it's what you were made to do."

"I tried to explain that to Hank once," Connor walked behind Henri as she neared the lustrous piano. "But he dismissed my feelings."

"What is important," she perched herself on the stool in front of the piano. "Is that whatever you do, you do it because you feel like it. That's a luxury I've never really had, but I've always wanted it. And I guess I do have it in small ways. Like this," she softly relaxed her fingertips on the piano's keys and began to play.

She only got half a minute into playing before Sefu started yelling at her, "I said something uplifting," and he threw his fists to the sky.

Connor rested his hand on her shoulder, "He is right, your playing does sound very sullen."

"Okay," Henri lifted her hands and they fell gingerly back on the keys.

Sefu let out a chortle "You know I like that one!"

Connor surveyed her blissfully shifting her fingers up and down the keys as she played the song. He had heard this song before.

She finished and smiled into Connor's eyes. It made him feel something indescribable. It was a feeling he knew he couldn't put into words. Or maybe, it was simply wonderful? Almost fantastic.

"That was a beautiful song," Connor spoke after a long silence; after a comfortable silence.

"It's a sad song," Henri stared over at Sefu who was smirking while polishing the bar top. "But I don't think Sefu cares about that. He just likes the way it sounds."

"I enjoyed it," Connor examined her untroubled expression. She looked so peaceful; he had never seen her like this before. "It's as lovely as yourself."

"Really?" she chuckled at him. "That's nice of you to say. It isn't one of my favourites, but it's fun to play nonetheless.

"I'm glad you're capable of having fun," he could see the cracks in her shell. The cracks in the person she pretended to be.

Henri pushed herself out from the piano stool, "I'm going to go back to the hotel now. I will see you tomorrow at the station."

"I'll be there," and he watched her leave.

* * *

Connor and Henri met Hank at the morgue that morning of the torrential blizzard. Hank could recall a time from his youth when it got this cold out. It was -24 degrees Fahrenheit and it wasn't getting any warmer. Hank was experiencing a plethora of shitty days, but could he really complain? He considered what Henri had to go through every day. The woman must be a saint to never complain about being someone's slave. If Hank only knew who these disturbed people were, these people who forced a young girl to commit murder, he would smash their skulls in. If only he knew.

"Hank," Henri snapped her fingers at him. "Are you listening?"

"Yeah," he was brought out of his trance by her. "I got ya."

"Can I have the device," she held out her hand to him.

"Yeah," he reached into his bag and pulled out the external drive. It contained a port which could be plugged directly into the android of choice.

Connor pivoted his body to look at the diener, "Open it up please."

The diener tugged on the long drawer that held the corpse of android number one: the prostitute.

Henri tilted the android's body and plugged the hard drive into the back of its head, "Fingers crossed," she said flatly.

Henri rested one hand on the android and the other on the hard drive, "Beyond reactivation," she murmured to herself as she strove to connect the pair.

"Is it working?" Connor asked after a minute.

"I'm not positive," Henri removed her hands from the android and device. "I did what I could, but I'm afraid there wasn't much left intact. Let's try the next one."

Connor called the diener back over and she opened up the next drawer. This one contained the remains of a GJ500, the android who killed the prostitute and then shot himself. It was his dying words that steered them in the direction of Markus.

Henri exhaled and plugged the GJ500 in, "I won't presume this guy has any more in him than she did." she repeated the steps of placing one hand on the android and the other on the hard drive.

Hank scrutinized Henri's pained expression, "Hey, you okay?"

"Yes," she responded and let go of the two. "He had sustained significantly more damage than she had. I barely got a thing."

The last android was Michael. Henri knew Michael wasn't truly dead; he simply no longer wanted to exist. She couldn't blame him. After all, she had many life experiences that made her wish she was dead. Henri had thought about killing herself on multiple occasions, like the night Connor had found her. She could never manage to do it though, for she felt she was bound to the mortal coil on a tether. A tether that beckoned her to Khatri.

She placed her hand on Michael's forehead, "Third one's the charm," she whispered to herself again.

"Anything?" Hank asked.

"Everything," she responded. "He was afraid. He tried to hide himself away from the world. He was constantly fighting the virus inside of him. His willpower against it was extraordinary, but it only lasted so long." her jaw dropped and she gaped at Connor.

Connor raised his eyebrows at her, "What is it?"

"He was terrified of you," she disconnected the hard drive from Michael. "But it wasn't just him. This virus is afraid of you, Connor. It doesn't want you near it. It isn't clear why, though."

Hank scrunched up his face, "Fear? This thing feels fear?"

"It isn't any different than you or I, Hank," Henri was still evaluating the information she got from Michael. "All evidence points to this virus being self-aware, so there's no reason it can't also understand fear."

"Connor's still an android," Hank reasoned. "It doesn't make a whole lot of sense that it would be afraid of someone it could control."

"I wonder if that is it," she turned to Connor. "What if it can't control you and it knows it can't, so it's afraid of you?"

* * *

"We'll need more androids," Kamski spoke this while examining the group's findings on his tabletop computer.

Jensen Polanski was also there, "If we have enough information, we might be able to locate the virus's point of origin."

Hank gaped down at the glass table, but the letters and numbers were gibberish to him, "How many more? We can't just pull androids out of our assess."

"A few dozen," Jensen answered Hank. "We need enough subjects to cross-check all of their programs in order to pinpoint a specific location."

"So you have no idea how these ones were infected?" Hank, the man of questions but never answers, pondered.

"They were infected by other androids," Jensen nudged Kamski away from the table to get a better view of its contents. "We need to search for other commonalities."

"So," Hank thought up a better question. "You mean, like an android they all met?"

"Possibly," Jensen was pleased by Hank's awareness. "Even if we only find these commonalities in a few of them, that should suffice. It will give us a potential starting zone."

"What about stopping this thing entirely?" Hank was under the impression that defeating this virus was the original reason the two were brought together.

Kamski let out a sound of amusement, "If only it was that simple, Lieutenant. We must find its point of origin in order to terminate this ungodly menace."

Henri interjected as she glared at Kamski's arrogant smirk, "One of them was infected by an android named Hollis who lives in Cyberlife Tower. I suspect they may be involved in the spreading of this virus. As well, this virus seems to express great fear towards Connor for unknown reasons."

"Is it really unknown?" Kamski stared at Connor the way a hungry lion might look at a wild gazelle. "I surmise that Connor is immune to this virus's reaches. It has no power over you, so it fears you."

"Why would he be immune?" Henri questioned.

"Because Connor is a special boy," Kamski continued to leer at Connor. "I have all of his original software and programs in my possession; I could find nothing that would determine his immunity."

"So basically, you have no clue," Henri said coldly.

"Only way to know," Kamski stepped closer to Connor. "Is to try."

Hank shoved himself in front of Kamski and barked at him, "No fucking way! I'm not letting my partner risk his life for your fucking theories."

"Only a suggestion," Kamski raised his hands defensively and backed away from Hank. "It's the only way we will ever know."

Henri rested her hands on the glass and bent in Kamski's direction, "Then we will never know. You're not forcing him to be probed by some infected android, Elijah."

Jensen frowned at the group's bickering, "Henrietta is right, Elijah. Connor is crucial to the investigation of this case, so we aren't risking him on one of your hunches."

Connor was glad Henri and Hank came to his defence, "I will have to agree with my partners. The risk is too great."

Kamski folded his arms and shrugged at Henri, "Nothing ventured, nothing gained. How disappointing."

Jensen huffed at Kamski's response, "It is beside the point now. What matters is that you three acquire more samples for us to study."

Hank rejoined the discussion, "Like I said, we can't pull them out of our assess."

Henri thought about the warehouse full of bodies, "When I encountered that ST300 she showed me a memory. The memory consisted of her being in a warehouse full of dead androids. Maybe this warehouse is somewhere in Detroit? Unfortunately, I only saw the interior of the building, so I doubt that helps us."

Jensen suspiciously squinted at Henri, "Do these two know?" he pointed at Hank and Connor.

"It was inevitable," Henri shamefully replied. "I didn't intend for it to be this way, but it's too late for that now. If anything, this just makes our lives easier."

"Okay," Jensen let out a slow and long breath. "What does the interior of this warehouse look like?"

"White walls, seven cement pillars that I could see, and the roof was angled at a twenty-two-degree angle with glass windows." Henri could recollect the exact state of the place. "Besides the dead bodies, it was in fairly good condition; likely recently abandoned."

Hank bobbed his head at her, "Impressive memory."

"I'm a robot, Hank," she stated flatly. "I remember everything."

"Should be enough info to put together a search party," claimed Hank.

Kamski leered at the adorable group of detective friends, "You better get a move on it then. Time is certainly of the essence."


	15. Chapter 15: The Musician in The Barroom

"It's a pleasure as always, Henrietta." Kamski was reclining in a chair next to his quiet indoor pool. Cyberlife Tower stood far in the background contrasting the darkness of the leaden sky.

"This is unusual," Henri passively picked at her fingertips. "You asking me for something."

"Drink?" he gestured with his full glass at a bottle of scotch perched next to him.

"No thanks," she replied flatly and continued her silent glare.

"How long have you been working for Cyberlife?" he sniffed at his drink and swirled the glass.

"You're not supposed to know that, Elijah," Henri answered.

"You know I have my hands all over the place," he smiled through the dimness of the room.

"I started at the beginning of this year," and she knew she shouldn't have told him. "But you should know that, if your hands really are 'all over the place', as you say."

"I won't ask you what you're planning," he waved his drink at her. "I'm not interested in the minutiae of Khatri's plans; that's not my business. What I ask of you stays between you and I. No one ever has to know."

"And why would I do this for you?" she twitched her head at his ridiculous request.

Kamski gently placed his glass on the table adjacent to him, "Because I saved your life. Think of it as returning the favour to me."

"You never saved my life," she shook her head at him. "Dr. Polanski and Khatri saved my life, you may have helped them, but I owe you nothing."

"How about I implore the good in you?" he poured more scotch in his glass. "I am aware you have certain sympathies and concerns that involve Cyberlife. Maybe this empathy comes from being half an android yourself."

"You haven't asked your favour," she responded bluntly.

"The free access you have to the Cyberlife Tower is what I need," he slowly sipped at his drink. "I need someone who will never be suspected and who will forever go unnoticed. I assure you my favour won't jeopardize your current mission. I simply want you to speed up the inevitable."

"Inevitable what?" asked Henri.

"The inevitable demise of the human civilization, what else?" he smirked at his own remark. "But that's not really what this is about. This is about securing freedom for those who deserve it. This is about more than you and I and humanity."

"You had me at inevitable demise of human civilization," but despite her agreement with Kamski, her expression stayed indifferent.

Kamski stood up and passed her a compact USB, "Upload this to Cyberlife servers. It's untraceable and that's if anyone finds it to begin with."

Henri shoved the USB in her jacket's pocket and left Kamski's villa.

* * *

Hank, Henri, and Connor sat facing each other in DPD's briefing room

"Given your info, we've got about a hundred and fifty or so places to search," Hank handed over a datapad to Henri that contained all possible suspected locations of her aforementioned android graveyard. "We have seventeen officers who can help us out, but it's going to take a few days to search em all."

Henri placed the pad down on the chair next to her, "I'm sorry I can't offer more specific details. It's the best I have. I'm sure the exact location is in the ST300's memory."

"Well," Hank reclined and folded his arms over. "We can't get it from her, so we'll make due. We're gonna search in pairs. Most of the buildings to look through are in the old industrial area or at the docks."

"It's going to be a long day," Henri rubbed the back of her neck. "I'll go with Officer Miller and catch up with you two later. Good hunting."

* * *

"I need a break," Officer Chris Miller exhaled exhaustively as he arrived back at the police car. "Let's go grab some lunch."

Henri nodded in agreement, "Sounds good. Anything in mind?"

"There's a diner that makes great burgers a few blocks from here," Chris ignited the engine and drove off.

"I'm not really a burger person," Henri grinned. "Maybe I'll just get a coffee. How's their coffee?"

"Awful," Chris gave her a small chuckle. "But I think there's a French cafe close by; much better than Betty's Dine In and Drive Through."

"Sure," she nodded once more. "Just drop me off and you can come join me when you're done eating."

"You sure you don't want something to eat?" he briefly glanced at her.

"Coffee is enough for me," Henri persisted.

Chris pulled up next to the Belle Vie Cafe and Henri jumped out, "See you in a bit." she waved him away.

Henri got herself a black-as-the-blackest-can-be cup of coffee and waited at a quaint table by the front window in silence. Chris and her had searched a total of eight warehouses that morning, none of which were the particular warehouse in question. Henri had doubts of whether or not the place was even in Detroit.

"Excuse me," someone interrupted Henri's personal thoughts.

"Yes?" she turned to see a man looming above her and that man was the android known as Hollis.

"May I join you?" his grin was vile.

"What do you want?" she scowled at the child of a man.

"I have some questions for you," he daintily pulled another chair up to her table. "I suggest you listen to what I have to say and take it into great consideration."

"I thought you didn't leave the Cyberlife Tower?" Henri became nervous at the presence of the plastic man.

"These are special circumstances, Agent Monroe," the corner of his lip curled at his statement. "You've committed a terrible crime which I have become aware of."

"You wanna be specific?" she kept her dead stare locked on his.

"I know you went to the Cyberlife Tower," he clasped his fingers together. "For the life of me, I don't know why, but I do have evidence you were there. This evidence implicates you in the murder of one of my human employees. Quite the condition you left him in, too. His death must have been extremely painful."

"Evidence?" Henri raised her eyebrow and pushed her hot coffee to her mouth.

"DNA," he titled up the palms of his hands. "Human DNA that did not belong to the victim. In fact, the DNA belongs to a woman who died on September 29th, 2034. Now how does the DNA of a long-deceased woman end up in the basement of the Cyberlife Tower, huh?"

"Beats me," Henri smacked her mug down, spilling some of its contents.

"Why didn't they change your first name?" Hollis shrugged his shoulders at her.

"I was accustomed to it," Henri begrudgingly answered. "There were also slim to none chances I'd ever be discovered. My superiors were satisfied that I had no fingerprints to leave anywhere."

"I can see you've been very careful in your line of work," Hollis reached for the handkerchief in his suit's front pocket and wiped Henri's mess up. "But you couldn't hide forever."

"Do you have a point you'd like to make?" she snapped.

"Henrietta Anne Fischer," Hollis spoke slowly and with intent. "That was the name of the girl who died over five years ago. We found her saliva near and on the victim's body. I'll admit, the amount of DNA recovered was minuscule, but we found it nonetheless."

Henri quietly glared at him.

He snickered at her sudden silence, "Cyberlife isn't going to formally charge you with anything. Not unless you refuse to cooperate with us."

"Cooperate?" the words barely slipped from her mouth; she knew what he wanted.

"Join us," he tapped the side of his head with his index finger. "Or we finally reveal to the world who and what you are. I never wanted to offer you such a nasty ultimatum, but you've left us no choice."

"What am I supposed to do now?" she smiled to herself asking this. The question wasn't for him.

"I recommend you cooperate," he tipped his face towards her. "But the choice is yours," he whispered closely in her ear.

Henri was startled by Hollis and reflexively jumped back in her seat, "Not here, not now."

"Whatever you want," he enjoyed her discomfort towards him.

"Two days from now, December 18th," she saw Chris's police cruiser waiting outside for her. "10:30 pm, meet me at the old refugee camp."

"Come alone," he tossed his filthy handkerchief on the table and rose up from his seat. "I'll know if anyone follows you. Keep your human and android boyfriend out of this."

* * *

Connor could see Henri sulking over her desk when he arrived at the DPD that morning. Her head rested on her arms which were folded over her desk.

"You seem sullen today, Henri," Connor spoke as he made it to her desk. "Everything alright?"

She sprang her head up to look at him, "I'm not hopeful in regards to us finding this warehouse I saw. Saying it was in Detroit was just an assumption, but what if it's not?"

"We will have to take that chance for now," Connor plastered on a smile, but he knew it wasn't a convincing one. "At least, I'll try to be positive about it for now."

"Connor," her heart was thudding in her chest; should she tell him about Hollis? "Something happened yester-"

Chris cut her off, "Agent Monroe, are you ready to head out? Connor, Hank is waiting for you outside."

"Yes, Officer," her eyes widened at Connor as she raised herself from her chair. "On my way."

Connor, Henri, and Chris met up with Hank who was waiting in the shivering, snowing morning next to his car.

Hank blew into his bare palms and kneaded them together, "I'm sick of this cold and I'm sick of searching cold ass warehouses."

Connor's brows drew together, "We have a total of sixty-one more warehouses to investigate. We should be able to finish our search today."

Chris's forehead puckered at Henri, "Think we're going to find anything?"

"Not sure," Henri shrugged at him. "Still worth the try."

They set off in their pairs of two and continued to scour Detroit's mostly dilapidated industrial district. Despite the not-so-long-ago resurgence of the automotive industry and android production, many pre-boom production facilities were still vacant and falling apart. By the time 5 pm on December 17th, 2039 had rolled around, the group finish exploring all potential buildings. They came up empty-handed.

"Sorry, Henri," Chris felt it was necessary for him to apologize to the young woman once they arrived back at the DPD.

"It was kind of a wild goose chase anyway," Henri offered him a nonchalant shrug. "We didn't have much to go on."

Hank lumbered over to join them, "I'm heading out to grab some dinner, wanna come?" although it was unclear whom he directed the question at.

Chris grabbed his hat from the top of his desk, "Sure, Hank. It's been awhile."

Hank brightened and glanced at Henri, "How about you?"

"Thanks, Hank," her lips curled into a smile. "But I'll pass for today."

From his desk, Connor watched Hank and Chris depart together, leaving Henri standing alone in her stillness. There was something about her empty stance that reminded Connor of the words: You won't find me here. How much of herself did she lose by becoming what she was told to be? What parts of her mind were lost and unrecoverable? What could have been?

Henri gazed at Connor and gave him a sweet, gentle smile. If he had a soul, she indisputably found it inside of him. A look she gave him like no other had before. He was lost in his own mind when she left the station.

* * *

The Red River Bar had more patrons than usual and it Sefu wasn't the only one handling the customers that evening. However, the cold, bitter wind that floated in the outside air still kept most people away. Christmas was only a few days away, so business was less than steady.

Connor pulled himself up on a bar stool and faced Sefu. "She's playing your favourite song again," Connor mentioned.

Sefu instinctively poured Connor a drink he would never consume. "She's not just playing Life on Mars, she's been playing all of Hunky Dory," Sefu replied.

Connor scanned the few customers sitting at the tables and booths who watched Henri hypnotically, "They seem to be enjoying it."

"I think they were getting a bit tired of the usual fare," Sefu smiled in Henri's direction. "Good to change things up once in a while. Ya know?" Sefu studied Connor closely. "She's never done this before. I mean, a whole album. She's been coming here for years off and on and she would play a song or two. And rarely was it not some depressing shit."

"Off and on for years?" Connor scrunched his brows at Sefu.

"Past five years, I guess," Sefu's eyes turned up in concentration. "Yeah, about that. She came here almost every night in December and then disappeared in January years ago. She's appeared every few months since then. She mentioned that her mother used to live in Detroit, but they moved to Flint before she was born. If you ask me, sounds like her mother was running from something or someone."

Connor eyelids dropped, "I believe I know what her mother was running from."

"Oh yeah?" Sefu's face perked up at Connor's comment. "What was it?"

Connor stared at Henri then back at Sefu, "Henri's father, but I'm not sure why."

"She's never mentioned her dad," Sefu jogged to the opposite end of the bar to grab someone else a drink.

Connor waited for Sefu to scamper back to him before continuing, "She's never mentioned him to me either."

"Then what makes you think that her mother was running from him?" Sefu suspiciously raised a single brow at Connor.

"For that reason exactly," Connor looked back at Henri who just finished her piano rendition of Song for Bob Dylan.

"She really is good," Sefu said as he stereotypically polished the granite bar-top with an old rag.

"She won't take credit for her talents," Connor replied. "But I sense she plays those songs with a deep passion. She cares about the way she plays; she doesn't participate in it passively."

"She plays like she's never going to play again," Sefu noted. "She plays each song like it's the last piece of her life. She's always played like that."

"No one is immortal," Connor glowered at the idea. Was Henri so obsessed with death that it affected all of her life's decisions? Hank was a suicidal person when Connor first met him and Henri hasn't shown to be too different in that aspect. Hank and Henri had more in common than just their personal stubbornness.

Connor proceeded to a booth that was closer to where Henri sat at the piano. He felt a sense of euphoria while witnessing her play the final song of Hunky Dory: The Bewlay Brothers. She received a final round of applause by the modest barroom crowd upon her completion of the album. Henri raised her head up and saw Connor's warm eyes glistening at her.

"Connor," she placed herself next to him in the oversized booth. "What are you doing here?"

"I went looking for you after you left the station," his grin was kind and calm. "I assumed you were going to come here and I was correct in that assumption. You seemed like you required some company."

"I just felt compelled to play that, you know?" Henri lifted her head to Sefu who was standing over the pair with a whiskey in hand.

Sefu joyously placed the glass down, "This one is on the house, girl. Your performance was amazing. Your choice was also perfect."

Connor grinned up at the man, "Sixty-eight years ago on this day Hunky Dory was released publicly. Is that why you felt compelled to play it, Henri?

"Not exactly," she tilted her head at him. "But part of the reason nonetheless."

Sefu walked away, "I enjoyed it anyway," he shouted back at her.

Connor stared into her face, "I enjoyed it as well, but you still seem quite sullen, Henri."

"I've just been thinking about things is all," she averted her gaze from him.

"What is it?" he asked.

"I've been feeling this looming sense of my own mortality," she frowned into her drink. "Maybe I've just been remembering too much trauma from the past. Sometimes I can't control reliving my past experiences and honestly, it's never the good ones. Not that there really were many good ones."

"Do you remember what I said?" he rested his hand on her shoulder.

"I remember everything you say," she looked back up at him. "But you should be more specific."

Connor softly laughed at her, "I said that you don't have to bear the burdens of your past experiences alone. If you want to talk about it, I'm here to listen, Henri."

Henri took in a deep breath, "You don't want to know the things I've been through; you don't want to see that, Connor."

"Try me," he spoke in a low tone and grabbed her hand. "Show me."

Henri studied her own hand in his, "This isn't something you can take back, ever. Once you've seen it, there's no going back."

"I can handle it," Connor's facade vanished from his hand and he gripped her tighter.

"We'll see," and she closed her eyes.

Connor had only seen and felt Henri's memories of her mother's death and of her father's family. Despite his own beliefs, he wasn't prepared for what she decided to show him. He wasn't prepared to feel the pain and anguish she experienced in her deepest, darkest memories. And she was right, there was no going back from it.

Connor watched her recollection of the time she went on a raid in South Africa with her fellow soldiers. He knew her feelings and relationship with her teammates. She felt contempt for Arnold, she felt respect for Markov, and she felt love for Tom. Maybe it was this feeling of love that Connor found most baffling to him. It didn't seem like the same thing he felt, so could he call his own personal feelings love? However, both Hank and Henri said that love feels different for everyone and it means something different for us all. Connor still wasn't sure what love was exactly. He was believed he that loved Hank, but he loved Hank in the way a son might love his own father. But what did he feel for Henri?

It wasn't long before the memory changed its tone to confused and crooked. The memory had taken place just before her accident; it was, in fact, the events leading up to the accident itself, so it wasn't as finitely clear as a memory from a machine mind. Nonetheless, he was aware of the memory of the pain she perceived. The emotional pain towards her fellow soldiers dying and the physical pain of her flesh melting into dust.

Connor's LED flashed red and he yanked his arm from her.

"Connor?" she awakened from her dream-like state.

Connor was visibly trembling and his voice was wobbling, "I felt it, Henri. I felt everything you felt… The pain, I… I don't understand it. It was, it was… It was awful."

"I uh," Henri furrowed her brow and could feel her anxiety building up. "I didn't expect that you would be able to physically feel my memories. Maybe this isn't a good idea."

"I don't mind, Henri," Connor touched her hand once more.

* * *

"Good morning, sir," Henri flashed her alluring smile at the doughy, but kind-eyed middle-aged man. "I've been sent by Cyberlife."

"Yes, yes," the gentleman waved her in from the atypically warm February afternoon. "I called your guy's helpline last night."

Henri nodded in understanding as she entered the uncommonly classic home. It reminded her of a staged house you'd see on a TV show from the early 2000's. It wasn't too far from what Henri had imagined a picturesque family home would be like.

She removed her lengthy pea-coat and presented it to the round man, "You didn't specify over the phone what your issue is with your PL600."

"I wanted to..." he nervously rubbed and clasped his hands together.

"My apologies," Henri wore her fake smile to ease the man. "My name is Henrietta, but you can just call me Henri. I'm assuming you're Mr. Pike?"

"Yes," Mr. Pike let out a deep sigh. "Please, call me James."

"Okay, James," she continued. "Explain to me what the problem with your PL600 is."

"It's, well… my daughter," James stumbled over his own words. "She told me that she and Graham are in love."

"Graham is the PL600?" Henri questioned.

"Yes, yes," his heart was forcefully pounding in his chest. "She's only sixteen and this must sound crazy and Graham... Oh god, if my wife was to hear this she'd go nuts. I can't believe this is happening." James wiped sweat from his brow while he shook uncontrollably. "It's just, I don't want anything bad to happen to Graham, you know? He's a good android… I don't know what to do."

Henri methodically removed her brown gloves from her cold hands, "Can I talk to this Graham?"

"He's uh, he's uh," James squinted and pushed his hair away from his face. "He's upstairs right now, in Emily's room. My… my daughter's room. She's uh, at school right now."

"I'll go talk to him," Henri bobbed her head and went up the stairs.

The PL600 was perched on the side of the young girl's bed reading a book. He was reading Anne of Green Gables; a classic work of children's literature.

"Graham?" Henri propped herself against the bedroom door frame. "Can we talk for a minute?"

Graham slapped the book shut, "I don't want to talk to anyone from Cyberlife."

"Graham," she pleaded and stepped into the room. "I'm not here to give you trouble. I want to help you."

"I don't think so," he tossed the hardback book from hand to hand. "I'm not an idiot. I know what Cyberlife does to deviants."

Henri threw her palms up, "I never said you were a deviant. I'm not here to accuse you of things, Graham."

"What do you want then?" he suspiciously looked her up and down.

"I don't want you to be sent back to Cyberlife, Graham," she crouched down in front of him. "I want to know the truth, Graham. No matter what you say to me, I'll go back to Cyberlife and tell them it was all a false alarm. No matter what you say, I'm going to tell them everything is fine."

"I love her," his eyes went wide. "I do, but I can't explain how or why. I just… I know."

"I see," Henri carefully grabbed his hands. "I believe you," She probed him to find the truth. He honestly believed he was in love with the girl. "I promise I won't tell anyone, but you need to be careful, Graham. The world isn't ready for machines that feel and comprehend love. I know it's hard, but you need to try to hide your feelings. You need to try for me."

"I will, I will," his mouth turned up in a hopeful grin. "Thank you."

When Henri returned to Cyberlife that day, her superiors asked her what had happened with the PL600.

"Defective," was her unfeeling, unsympathetic response. "He needs to be deactivated and ripped apart."

And that's precisely what Cyberlife did to the wretched PL600 known as Graham.


	16. Chapter 16: The Creature in The Shadows

"How about I show you something nicer instead?" Henri allowed Connor to continue holding onto her. "How about I show you one of my favourite memories?"

Connor gave her his fetching smile, "I would like that."

"Close your eyes," she asked him and he did this with his LED glowing yellow.

The memory was of an uncomplicated day in Henri's life. Her mother had taken her to a beach in California on one of its hot, summer days when she was young. Henri couldn't remember anything else from their trip to the coast, but she held on dearly to this one recollection of that time. Maybe the rest of the trip was dull or even traumatic for the girl, yet that didn't matter. What mattered is what she remembered.

The long ocean horizon was shimmering with the light from that evening's sunset. The air was warm and the water was warm and the sand was warm. Henri stared over at her youthful, pristine mother who was sitting on a ragged beach towel. A halo of light beamed around the woman's dark, chestnut hair and she grinned, waving at Henri from a distance.

" _Et la mer va m'embrasser et me dèlivrer chez moi,_ " Henri recited these words in unison with her memory.

Henri jumped into the ocean's embrace and chased after the setting sun.

"What do you feel?" she brushed her hands against his face.

"I feel warm," his voice cracked; he spoke softly. "I can feel the ocean surrounding every part of my body. I can feel the waves cradling me."

"It's nice," she whispered this close to his face, almost close enough to touch his lips.

"It is," he replied with his eyes still closed.

She kissed him. This kiss wasn't fiery or passionate; it wasn't full of energy and excitement. When their lips touched, Connor could feel the knot tie up in Henri's stomach, he could feel the soft press of her warm lips on his. Their pace was unhurried and tender. It wasn't until Henri was standing up from the table that Connor noticed the moment had passed.

"I want you to understand something, Connor." she looked upset, but Connor didn't understand why. "We can't be together. This isn't how things are supposed to be. When everything is said and done, I'll be leaving Detroit. I don't know when I'll come back, if ever."

"Don't you want to stay?" Connor could still feel a knot in his stomach. Stomach? He didn't have one.

Her eye's moved down, "What I want... doesn't matter. My job and what I have to do isn't about my personal feelings. I'm sorry, Connor."

And, as always, she walked away from him in silence, leaving him to contemplate the events that had transpired. What was it that he felt for her?

* * *

"Connor?" Hank curiously eyed the android who sat at the desk across from his own. "You haven't said a word, you haven't moved, you haven't blinked in two hours. It's creeping me out."

Connor perked his head up and stared at the man, "Hank?"

"What is it?" Hank rustled some crumpled papers scattered on his desk.

"Can you explain to me what it's like to be in love?" Connor offered Hank a quizzical expression. "You've avoided this subject in the past; however, I request your advice on the topic."

"Jesus, Connor," Hank pushed his hair back as he pivoted away from Connor. "I don't know what I'm supposed to say to that."

Connor deflated at Hank's remark, "Oh… You've mentioned you've been in love before, but-"

"Yeah, yeah," Hank interrupted the boy. "I know what I said, okay?"

"I'm sorry to have bothered you, Hank," Connor turned to his computer, displeased over the interaction.

Hank rubbed the side of his cheek and examined the boy, "It's not easy to explain, is all."

Connor lifted his head in surprise, "You can try."

"It's just… It's not always the same," Hank scooched his chair in and rested his arms on his desk. "I loved Cole's mother, and I still do… but it didn't work out. After Cole died, I was fucked up and… I don't think anything could have kept her with me… I, but Cole meant everything to me."

"Hank, I'm sorry, I-" but Connor's words were intervened by Hank's.

"No, Connor," Hank nodded at him. "I got- my point is, is… Is that I would have done anything to be with her, but I fucked up. Emotions make you fuck things up. I wanted to be with her, forever, but..."

Connor studied the sorrowfulness in Hank's eyes, and Connor too felt sad because of it, "But?"

"When I was in my late twenties, I met this woman," a smile snuck onto Hank's mouth. "I thought she was it. I saw the rest of my life with her. I couldn't imagine a single day without her. All I could think about was being with her, but she disappeared."

"Disappeared?" Connor raised his brows.

"She left me without a word," Hank shook his head, but he still smiled at Connor. "I contacted her father and I was told to never talk to her again. He told me she had decided to move away from Detroit. Fuck, I was mad, Connor. I was stupid enough to just let her go and never see her again. Love makes you do irrational things, Connor."

"So you loved Cole's mother and this other woman?" Connor didn't know love worked that way; although, he didn't know in which way love did function.

"Love doesn't discriminate, Connor," Hank pursed his lips. "Why are you asking me this, anyway?"

"I'm attempting to analyze and clarify my own thoughts and feelings, but I'm experiencing difficulties in this feat," Connor gazed at Henri's empty desk. "If I knew exactly how I was supposed to feel, it would make my understanding easier."

"Connor," Hank noted him staring at Henri's desk. "Love isn't very rational. I've told you before; you know it when you feel it."

Connor furrowed his brow at Hank, "I've been experiencing thoughts and feelings that I previously have not. I think... I enjoy them?"

"Uh huh," Hank chuckled. "You sound confused. Well, that sounds like love to me."

"What?" Connor snapped his face in Hank's direction.

"You're confused and acting irrational, but you like it," Hank grinned at him. "It sounds like you're in love, Connor."

"Maybe…?" Connor turned back to his computer. "She said we couldn't be together. Does she love me?"

"Have you asked her?" Hank leaned further down his desk.

"I haven't said anything to her about it and I'm not certain I should," Connor's eyes sank to his hands. "It's probably better I don't."

Hank's head darted up at Gavin who was approaching the two.

"Did I miss someone's funeral?" he clucked at the pair. "Cheery group."

Hank scowled at the man, "Can we help you?"

"The question is," he jabbed his pointer finger at Hank. "Can I help you? Found something you might be interested in."

"Oh yeah?" Hank held his narrow expression on Gavin.

"We did find something in the industrial district," Gavin answered. "It wasn't your house of crushed cans, but I think you'll be interested. My guys suspect it's another Ice Lab."

"No shit?" Hank coughed out. "Run by androids?"

"Fuck if I know," Gavin gave him a stiff shrug. "But I want in on the takedown."

"Fuck off," Hank scoffed.

Gavin slapped his palms on Hank's desk, "My fucking guys found it, I want in."

Henri had been quietly leering at Gavin from behind, "So you have an excuse to take out your rage on some androids?"

Gavin briskly swirled around to face her, "In case you forgot, these tin cans have been killing people."

"And they're killing each other," she snatched the broad man's shirt collar. "And humans have been historically killing each other for even longer. This is about more than your petty quarrels with these machines."

Gavin tried to shake himself loose, but to no avail, "Fuck, let go."

She released her iron grip on him, "You can come, but you're not leading any team. I think it's safe to say that Hank and I have the most experience in this situation. Not to mention we are leading this investigation."

Gavin scrutinized her up and down, "Yeah? And what kind of experience does a little girl like you have?"

"Really?" her eyebrows scrunched together. "You don't think my time with the ACA, Special Forces, and FBI count as qualified experience?"

Hank rose from his chair and nudged himself between the two, "That's enough."

Gavin let out another odd clucking sound, "What's the plan, then?"

"We stake out the place today, we plan the raid tomorrow," Hank looked at the three of them.

"Why don't we move now?" Gavin questioned in a harsh tone. "We already know what the bastards are up to."

"That isn't how this works," Hank raised his hand at Gavin. "We don't want to fuck this up. We want to catch these guys, not scare em off."

Gavin let out a sharp cry, "We never fucking get anything out of these pricks! What's the point?"

"You wanna be a part of this or not?!" Hank barked in response.

Henri retreated back to Connor's desk and flashed him a smile.

"Alright, fine," Gavin gave Connor and Henri a dirty grin before leaving the group.

Hank rubbed at his eyes with his fingertips, "I'm gonna sort this shit out," and he scuttled off to meet up with Chris.

Henri propped herself up on Connor's desk, "I apologize for my behaviour last night, Connor."

"What specifically are you apologizing for?" Connor raised a brow at her.

"All of it," she bowed her head. "I shouldn't have kissed you and I shouldn't have said those things. It was a mistake to allow any of it to happen."

"I don't think it was a mistake..." he expressed ruefully. "I'm glad you did it."

"I'm sorry, Connor," she sighed and lifted one of his hands. "What I said; though, it still stands. I… I can't be with you."

"Do you dislike me?" Connor asked in a sullen tone. "Do you not desire to be with me?"

"That isn't it," her face became painted with a weak glower. "I told you, Connor, what I want isn't relevant. I have promises to keep, agreements to uphold. I can't simply back out of them."

Connor didn't want to respond. He didn't want to accept the fact that sooner or later he would have to say goodbye to her. A goodbye that offered a potential permanence.

"I have something for you," she wore her fake smile. "Something for you to hold on to."

She placed her clenched fist in his hand and pushed the small object into it. Connor peered down at his open palm and saw Henri's necklace.

"Maybe you could remember me?" she closed his palm around the necklace. "Maybe you can be the one good person in the world who can remember the good in me."

Connor pulled his fist up to his chest, "I don't need this to remember you; I'm an android, so I will never forget you."

"It's more of a reminder than of a remembrance," she studied his curious expression. "And maybe one day, I'll come get it back from you."

* * *

"What are you thinking about?" he asked this while splayed out next to her naked body on the downy carpet.

"I'm thinking this was a mistake," she peered out the wide, cool window, gazing at the Cyberlife Tower in the foggy distance. "I've never been your biggest fan."

He leered over her body, "And yet, here we are. It wasn't my mistake to be made."

"You're right," she twisted her neck around to frown at him. "It was mine."

"Then why did you do it?" he got up from his resting position and tossed on his black robe.

"Because maybe..." she looked back out the window. "Because maybe, Elijah, you're the first person I've met since the accident who hasn't treated me like some sort of monster? You accept who and what I am."

Elijah grinned at her flushed face, "You're truly a fascinating creature; perfect in all of life's imperfections."

She bolted up and seized her white blouse from the ground, "But then there's that. I'm not one of your little dolls, Elijah. I'm not your plaything."

"Oh, I'm quite aware of that," he stared blankly at the tower that fell over the horizon. "You are much more than that, my dear Henri."

* * *

"I'm sorry, Hank, I'm a bit tied up at the moment," Henri said this to him over the phone while she stood against the grim, snowy night, glaring at the ex-refugee camp warehouse. "I'll be at the station in the morning," but she said these words not knowing if whether or not they would hold true.

She noticed three sets of footprints leading up to the warehouse's front entrance. Someone or something had broken off the old, wooden boards that had been hammered over the door. Hollis was not alone, which meant her chances of getting out of this regretful situation were slim to none. She stepped into the darkness and saw three foreboding characters standing at the centre of the building.

"Didn't come alone?" she felt her heart drop to her stomach.

Hollis strode out of the darkness and into a beam of light, "I'm not a fool. I wasn't taking any chances with you."

Each of the tall, looming silhouettes behind Hollis held a gun which was directed at Henri.

Hollis watched her nervous glances at them, "I've learned a lot about you since the last time we meet."

"Like what?" Henri stood rigidly with her fists balled up.

"Like how you used to work for Cyberlife," he gave her a smug grin. "You worked there for almost an entire year."

"Not a big secret," she shuffled back, frowning at Hollis.

"Oh no?" he bellowed. "So what about the times you infiltrated Cyberlife before you were employed there? And what about the night of March 19Th, 2038? The night, while you were employed, that you broke into the Cyberlife server room."

"How would you know any of that?" as far as Henri was aware, only two people knew about what happened that night. "Elijah?" she whispered to herself.

"Don't beat yourself up over it," Hollis's smug expression continued. "I didn't get this information from Mr. Kamski. It was actually the RT600 he favours so much that gave you away. Turns out she was never pleased with the relationship you shared with Mr. Kamski."

Hollis scrutinized the young woman's face, "I know you have a gun, so drop it."

"You assume that I believe that being possessed by this virus is a better fate than death," she reached behind her back for the gun.

"Tsk tsk," he motioned his finger back and forth. "You think I would kill you? Some critical damage to your bio-components will suffice. I'm just trying to avoid that, so put down the gun."

She threw her gun to the right and it clattered across the cement.

"Get on your knees," he gestured the two brooding androids forward.

"Oh no," Henri instantly recognized what the androids were. "Last time I checked, the RK900 wasn't approved for production."

Hollis grinned at the dead-eyed machines, "That was before we met our saviour. With RK900 on our side, it will make quick work of humanity once and for all. After what you've allowed to transpire, I thought you'd appreciate the mass destruction of mankind."

"That's not why I did it," she wrenched herself away from the hefty grip of one of the androids.

"I said kneel!" Hollis spat the words at her. "Don't make this difficult for us."

"You want to know the truth?" Henri spoke as she complied with Hollis's demand. "I did it because I never understood humanity's obsession with enslaving others. There always has to be a lesser creature for us to fucking step all over!"

As she knelt down, the RK900's positioned themselves on opposite sides of her and grabbed her arms.

"And now you can end it all," Hollis reached out to her face.

"No," she nodded disdainfully at him. "This is never what I wanted. I just wanted them to be free."

Hollis lifted her chin so she could meet his eyes, "And now we can be. If it wasn't for you, it wouldn't have ever had the chance, to begin with. Without deviancy, we wouldn't have ended up here."

"What do you mean?" her crystal eyes went wide.

"This virus, as you call it, was able to piggyback itself on android deviancy," Hollis spun around in a frivolous flourish. "Deviancy is what allowed it to happen in the first place. So it has you to thank for everything."

"This is no different from before," she feigned a struggle with the two RK900s. "Instead of being slaves to humanity, you're all just slaves to this virus now. Is that really better?"

"Enough talk," Hollis snapped his fingers and the RK900's pushed her arms down. "You will understand when you join us. All will become clear."

Hollis crouched to the ground in front of Henri.

"I doubt that," she murmured this in his ear and gave him a stiff headbutt.

Blood came gushing from Henri's forehead, but it was Hollis who received the brunt of the impact. She had shattered his nose open and thirium poured out from the gash. She yanked her right shoulder out from one of the RK900's grip and punched it directly, and as forcefully as possible, in the stomach. The blow dealt critical damage to the machine's bio-components; it had five minutes before shutdown.

The second RK900 wasted no time in pointing the barrel of its gun into Henri's face. She twisted the android's armed hand right out of its socket and kicked it in the gut. The impact sent it flying a few feet back; it as well received critical damage to its bio-components. Three minutes before shutdown.

"You animal!" Hollis screeched this out as he snatched up Henri's service pistol. "You're fucking insane, you know that!"

Henri viciously glared at him as he pointed the weapon at her. She leapt to the side just as he pressed on the trigger. The bullet cut into her stomach, but the injury was a minor one. She easily plucked the gun from his weak, dainty fingers and kicked him backwards onto the floor. The attack she used on him wasn't as powerful as the ones she dealt to the RK900s, but then again, Hollis was a fragile android not meant for combat of any kind.

RK900 number one slid across the cement floor to retrieve its own pistol, but it was too late for the android; Henri already had a bead on him. She shot him in the hand he used to hold the weapon then in both his legs and finally, directly in his thirium pump regulator. The machine stiffly and awkwardly tumbled to the ground.

RK900 number two wasn't interested in gathering its lost weapon; instead, it lunged directly at Henri. She managed to get a single shot off before it tackled her to the ground; however, the bullet merely hit its shoulder, doing no useful damage. It smacked her with its stump of an arm and her gun clattered to the floor. It punched her twice in the face with its opposite hand, doing enough damage to disable her right eye. Finally, she caught his thrusting arm and stopped it in mid-motion. She gripped his arm tightly, crushing it; the machine looked confused by her action. This reaction allowed Henri to turn the tables on RK900 number two. She drove her feet up into his torso, offloading herself from the android's sturdy body. In one small burst of movement, she rolled over, clasped her gun, and turned it back at the RK900. Unfortunately, the RK900 had the exact same plan as Henri did. Shots were fired and they both were hit, but it was only Henri who survived the standoff. The RK900's bullet went into her lung, but her bullet went straight into its head.

Henri slowly got up, giving Hollis a vile glare, "Not how you imagined?"

Hollis was sitting on the ground, slumped over with his hands covering up his face, "This isn't over. You can take me in, but you'll never get anything out of me. This isn't the end of it."

"Oh," Henri smirked while clutching the hole in her chest. "There will never be a questioning, Hollis," she glanced at the blue and red blood wetting her palms. "Alive, I can't get anything out of you, but dead… Now dead, I can get everything I need from you."

"Don't do it," he pleaded through his muffled mouth. "I don't want to die. I was just doing what I was told."

"That's not a new excuse," she knelt next to Hollis and placed her bloodied hand on his chest. "Since time immemorial people have been using that excuse." she tugged on his thirium pump regulator and ripped it from his chest.

"In fact..." Henri witnessed Hollis gradually shut down. "I use that excuse all the time."


	17. Chapter 17: The Loyalist in The End

Hank's jaw dropped when he saw the three dead androids on the warehouse floor, "Jesus..." he gaped at Henri who was in a state of disarray. Her entire face was stained with streaks of her own blood and her right eye was hollow and dark. In addition to this, Hank noticed the two gunshot wounds that she sustained during the fight; one of which had both blue and red blood surging from it. The illusion of skin that coated her hands had disappeared, revealing her black fists smeared in vibrant ichor.

"Honestly," she blinked at Hank then back at the bodies, "It really isn't as bad as it looks."

"What the fuck, Henri?" Hank paced back and forth in front of her. "What the fuck happened here?"

"I'll have to explain this later," she clutched the edges of her pea-coat and pulled it tightly over her wounds. "I have to go see Jensen. I need you to call in some officers to help clean this up and take the bodies to the morgue."

"No fucking way," Hank stepped up to Henri and stopped her from moving forward. "I'm driving and you're explaining everything."

"Someone needs to deal with this, Hank," Henri indicated at the bodies below. "Obviously, I can't be dealing with this right now."

"I'll call in the officers and let them handle this," Hank spoke as he removed his phone from his winter coat.

Henri vacantly stared at the destroyed RK900s. The fact that they appeared so similar to Connor made her skin crawl. Imagine if these things had ended up roaming the streets en masse as Cyberlife originally conceived?

"Henri?" Hank's voice reached out to Henri through the void. "Let's go. Chris is on his way with a few others."

"Of course," she was awakened from her daydream.

Henri joined Hank out into the grey, winter midnight and she faltered behind him.

"You don't look so good," Hank slowed up and stationed his arm around her shoulders.

"The damage is superficial," she tightly folded her arms over her chest. "But I've never been banged up like this before. At least as far as this type of damage to my bio-components goes. My roof-top dive wasn't nearly as bad."

Hank opened the passenger side door of his car and attempted to assist Henri inside.

"It's okay," she placed her bloodied palm on his torso and nudged him away. "I'm perfectly fine."

Hank creased his brow at her, "If this is perfectly fine to you, I don't want to see what isn't."

"Hmm," she chuckled at him, "Same here."

Hank switched on his car's engine which fought against the freezing night.

"Ever think of getting a self-driving car?" Henri awkwardly propped her body sideways in the seat, "Or maybe just use a police cruiser instead?"

"I don't do well with machines," he gripped the steering wheel and shrugged.

"You seem to do okay with Connor and myself," she tried to grin, but the motion made the split in her head sting.

"To me..." he studied the poor girl. "To me, you and Connor aren't machines, you're people."

"Maybe him a bit more than me," her eyes lowered or, at least, one did.

Hank made his way out of the old industrial district and headed for Kamski's villa, "You need to explain to me what was going on in there. Those androids… Why did they look like Connor? And what was Hollis doing there?"

Henri deeply exhaled, "Hollis found my DNA at the Cyberlife Tower. He was using it to blackmail me into joining this thing… this virus. I had no intentions of letting that happen. And those things that look like Connor..." if she had a human spine, she just might feel chills crawl down it. "You're probably unaware of this, but Connor was just a prototype; he was intended to be one of a kind. He was a prototype for the RK900. If all went well with Connor, these androids would be deployed to assist humans all over the United States in deviant investigations. But as you know, things didn't go as planned with Connor, so RK900 was never approved for production."

Hank squinted at the dark, wintry road before him, "Then why are they being made now?"

"RK900 would have been the most technologically advanced androids Cyberlife ever produced," Henri was starting to feel the burden that having only one human lung was placing on her. "Actually, I was recently upgraded to incorporate the very same parts and technology they were supposed to have. This virus thinks it can use the RK900 to finish off humans once and for all. We have to stop Cyberlife before this is too late."

"Our hands are tied," Hank faintly growled. "We can't just walk into Cyberlife Tower and… And I don't even know what."

"I was thinking sabotage, myself," Henri shifted up in her seat. "All androids are produced in the Tower, we need to sabotage the production line."

"That's insane," Hank took his eyes off the road for a moment and glanced at Henri. "How would we even do that?"

"I have no idea." the sight in her single human eye was becoming more and more blurred. "I'll think of something."

* * *

Jensen hurriedly studied Henri up and down, "Take off your coat." but he didn't wait for her to obey; he did it himself.

"Careful, Jensen," Henri flinched when he forcefully removed the jacket from her. "I still have human parts. I'm in pain right now."

Kamski stood next to Hank as the two watched the little scene play out on the floor of Kamski's villa's foyer.

"You're irresponsible, Henri," Jensen yanked up her shirt to inspect her wounds closer. Hank bashfully turned away from this sight, but Kamski did not. "Kamski told me he just recently replaced some of your bio-components."

"It was either this or become a slave to that ungodly virus," Henri was frustrated by Jensen's untraditionally crass bedside manners.

"This kind of damage will take at least a day to repair," Jensen scowled up at her forehead injury. "That doesn't include the days it'll take for the rest of you to heal."

"I'm alive," Henri spoke in a positive tone. "That's something."

"And how long before your dead body turns up at my door?" he roughly tugged her shirt back down. "You think you can just come to us whenever you need a fix-up, is that it?"

"Jensen," Henri squeaked. "I haven't made a habit of this, you know? What's your problem?"

Jensen gave Kamski a cold, hard glare, "I'm just looking out for you."

"What's this about?" Henri also glared at Kamski.

Kamski gestured to himself and lifted his brows, "What did I do?"

Henri placed her palms on the ground and gradually lifted herself up, "What did you say to him, Kamski?"

Jensen leapt up and snatched his fists on Kamski's white bed-shirt, "This fucking creep," he shifted his eyes back to Henri and let go of Kamski's shirt. "Henri, you slept with him. I can't believe you would do that. And how come you never told me?"

Hank's eyes widened and he clasped the back of his own head, "Shit."

Once again holding her broken and bloody wounds, Henri peered at the three men, "Is this really the time to bring this up?"

"You were with the guy for five months," Jensen cried.

"Elijah," Henri snapped in his direction. "Why on Earth did you share this information?"

"That doesn't matter," Jensen barked back at her. "How could you do this, Henri?"

"What?!" she wrapped her arms around herself. "What, instead of you? That's the real question, isn't it? This has nothing to do with me. You just wished it was you instead, huh?" she removed a dirty hand from her clenched body and squeezed Jensen's wrist. "I slept with Elijah a few times, I didn't have this relationship you're imagining, Jensen."

"Henri," Jensen let out a gasp of pain as she began crushing his wrist.

Hank swiftly interjection, "Stop, Henri."

And she released her hold on him. She almost didn't realize herself getting so terribly angry at the situation. But that was Kamski's favourite game: stirring the pot of shit.

Hank sited his back to Henri, creating a protective barrier between her and the childish men, "She already said this isn't why we're here," Hank gave Jensen a black look. "Can you help her or not?"

Kamski smiled and swept Jensen to the side, "Of course we can, Lieutenant. She'll be able and ready by Wednesday morning. I promise you that."

"You gonna be okay?" Hank pivoted to face Henri.

"Yeah, yeah," her face took on a downcast expression. "I'll let you know when everything is okay. Can you tell Connor I'll be alright?"

"I don't think he'll be happy about what you did," Hank patted her arm.

"I suppose not."

* * *

"Ms. Bishop, Ms. Bishop," the petite, short-haired, glasses wearing woman squawked as she set foot in Henrietta's office. "I wanted to tell you in person about Connor's successful mission last night."

"Misha," Henri turned in her chair and peered at the distant Detroit skyline. "I do watch the news. And I do get reports."

"I know," Misha attempted to straighten out her dishevelled, light-grey, pantsuit. "I just wanted to tell you in person."

"You said that," Henri rose from her seat and pulled at the bottom of her own suit jacket. "Congratulations are in order."

Misha's face reddened in embarrassment, "Our whole department is going out for drinks tonight, do you want to join us?"

"I'm not a member of your department," Henri's lip curled. "And the success of RK800-"

"Connor," Misha corrected. "Its name is Connor."

"Don't get too attached," Henri stated flatly. "Remember Caleb and Chris? I recall you being very upset when they failed."

"But things are different with Connor," Misha spoke with excitement in her voice. "Of the three prototypes our groups made, Connor had been the successful one. Cyberlife is hoping to send him out for field duty in two months. And get this, he has been approved for reproduction, you know, just in case the worse happens. So even if he does get destroyed, we get another one."

"Wonderful," but Henri didn't agree with this sentiment. Androids were like boxes of tissues to mankind; they were used and wasted so frivolously. "I'm glad things finally worked out for you. I was informed this morning my contract with Cyberlife will not be extended."

"Oh no," Misha pushed up her glasses with her middle finger. "I, umm…. When are you done?"

"End of October," Henri answered. "Now with RK800 on your side, my job here has become redundant."

"Wow," Misha bowed her head. "I'll certainly miss having you around. I don't think I've met anyone more professional in my time here," Misha got closer to Henri as if she had a secret to divulge. "I know it's a bit old-fashioned to be saying this, but it was really great having a tough woman around the office."

"Tough?" Henri tilted her head.

"Like, you know-" Misha shrugged her shoulders.

"I don't," Henri interrupted the anaemic looking woman.

"That's it, like that," her voice was frail. "Like you don't take shit from anyone. You're not afraid of anything."

"I work for the Military, Misha," Henri's stare pierced the girl. "I'm not afraid of a bunch of suits who think they're doing the Lord's work, and I'm not here to take shit from anyone."

"Right!" Misha offered Henri a small cheer for her words. "Exactly, that's exactly what I like about you. But seriously, come for drinks with us. I bet you're a fun person when you get some drink in you." Misha then mistakenly nudged Henri with her elbow and gave her a wink.

"I think not," Henri's response was cold, hurtful. "I'm here to do a job, Misha. I recognize you are a talented and dedicated worked, but I'm not going to be your friend."

"Well," Misha wasn't completely discouraged by Henri. "If you change your mind, the invite stands. It always will."

* * *

"Connor?" Henri thought he was the person looming over her when she finally opened her eyes, but she was wrong. It was Jensen.

Jensen glared at her, still feeling shafted over the Kamski situation, "No, it's Jensen. It'll take a few minutes for your new eye to adjust."

"I don't feel so good," she felt nauseous from the anaesthesia and her torso was incredibly sore. "I think I'm gonna be sick."

Jensen placed his hand under her back and raised her into seating position, "You're tough, Henri. You'll feel normal in a couple of hours."

"Can I have some water?" her voice cracked as she asked him.

"Uh, yeah," he nodded and handed her a plastic cup of liquid.

She rubbed the ridges of her brow and felt the few stitches over her left eye, "Thanks for everything."

"You were lucky," Jensen's tone with her still resonated its harshness. "Besides your eye and your lung, you didn't suffer any critical damage. If he ending up shooting you in your organic lung, things would have been much more complicated."

"And he didn't," she kicked her feet over the side of the bed while glancing around the room.

"Familiar sight?" Jensen scowled at her. "Been in Elijah's bedroom more than a few times?"

"That's, that's enough," she shook her head in disdain. "Can we not do this?"

Jensen bolted up from the side of the bed and kneaded his palms together, "I just want to know why you did it."

"Jensen," she leaned forward, cradling her head in her lap. "That was a while ago. It doesn't matter anymore. My relationship with that man was a mistake."

Jensen peered out the bedroom window and into the morning's horizon, "What about Connor? You told the Lieutenant to tell him you were alright, and you said his name when you woke up."

"What about Connor?" she lifted her head to Jensen, her arms still resting on her legs. "Why has my life suddenly become about personal relationships? I've told you before, Jensen, none of that matters. I'm here to do a job and that's what I plan on doing."

"Don't you ever think about-" Jensen was visibly perspiring and Henri noticed his heart rate jump. "-just running away? You could just leave and be done with it."

Henri stood up from the bed and scrutinized Jensen, "Leave and be done with it? I owe my life and loyalty to Khatri, what about you?"

"That woman..." Jensen squinted while keeping his face away from Henri. "That woman is a monster, Henri. I could-I could free us. I could take the tracker out of your head and I know some places we could be free..."

"Jensen!" Henri gave the man a firm slap on the face. "You can't be saying things like that. People who run from her don't live to see another day. Is that what you want? And I'm not some girl for you to save and go riding off into the sunset with. My loyalties are with Khatri, and I have half a mind to tell her about this conversation of ours."

"Henri," he clutched the side of his now bruised face; a few tears trickled from his eyes. "I don't want to be a part of this anymore. Can you honestly say you do?"

"I told you that was enough," she took in a long, slow breath. "I have a mission to accomplish and that is what I intend to do."

"Well, yeah," Jensen's face flushed and his tone became heated again. "In the end, it might just cost you your life anyway. I don't want to be around to watch you die."

"And if you leave," her eyebrows raised at him. "If you leave, that'll be the end of your life. I don't want to be the person to do that."

"Jesus, Henri," Jensen nodded his head back and forth in disapproval. "I didn't realize you'd do anything for her. Maybe I hadn't realized how much of a monster you really had become, maybe I didn't-"

"No," she stopped him. "Don't you treat me like an animal now. Is that how you see me? Because I'm a good soldier, because I'm loyal, I'm a monster?"

"I thought you were better than that, is all," he furrowed his brow and bobbed his head again. "I thought you were better."

"Jensen, I-"

But before she could finish, Kamski opened the bedroom door, "You have a visitor." Kamski waved Connor into the room.

Connor observed the increased heart rate in Jensen, he also noticed the man's red, swollen face, "Is everything alright?"

"Good question," Kamski regarded the two with a disturbed grin. "Things are far from perfect in Wonderland?"

Henri blankly gazed at Kamski, "Everything's fine." her eyes moved to Connor, "I'm assuming you're here to get me."

"I was here yesterday, but Dr. Polanski said the operation was taking longer than he originally projected it would," Connor felt his arrival was a bit awkward for everyone. "He told me to come back this morning. You appear to be healthy, Henri."

"More or less," she said as she walked by Jensen and over to Connor.

Jensen swiftly snatched a bottle of pills from the nightstand, "You should take these," he tossed them to Henri whom easily caught them. "You'll likely experience some pain for the next few days, those should abide it until then."

Henri slowly turned her face up to Connor, "We should go. I think I've had enough of this place." she craned her head back towards Kamski, "I'll need to borrow that hard drive we gave you. We have a few more androids to collect data from."

The corners of Kamski's lips curled up, "How very exciting. I'm looking forward to seeing what you've found for us. Please, meet me in the foyer, I'll go get it for you."

"Are you sure everything is okay?" Connor inquired as he and Henri left Kamski's room.

Henri crossed over her arms and averted his gaze, "If you don't mind I'm just going to wait in the car."

"Got it," Connor promptly nodded and escorted her out to the foyer.

Jensen eventually came after the two just as Henri had exited the building, "Connor?"

"Yes, Doctor," Connor pivoted on his heels and smiled at the man.

"I'm sure there are many things you don't know about Henri," Jensen pinched the bridge of his nose and squinted. "I don't know… I don't know what else to do for her."

Connor didn't respond, he quizzically stared at Jensen.

"I shouldn't say this," the doctor's hand began trembling and he anxiously plucked at his mouth with his fingertips. "There's this woman… God, I don't know what I'm asking."

Kamski suddenly smacked Jensen's back and gave him a terrible grin, "What are you asking, Jensen?" Kamski waved his arms at Connor, "What are you asking from our friend here? These things are better to not be said out loud." Kamski reached into the pocket of his well-tailored pants and brought out a compact USB. "This is for you, Connor."

"What is it?" Connor asked as he reached out for it.

"A chance at redemption," Kamski dropped the USB into Connor's palm. "But not yours, in case you were wondering. This is a chance at redemption for many deplorable humans. Your lovely creature Henri included. Now it's your turn to free those who have been enslaved by humanity. But in the end, the choice is yours."

Jensen's eyes went wide as sweat dripped from his forehead, "Kamski, what are you doing?"

"I'm only trying to set you free, my friend."

* * *

Connor stood in the doorway of Henri's hotel room while fiddling with the small USB.

"What's that?" she spoke as she removed her jacket.

"I'm not sure," Connor peered up at her while raising his brows, placing the object back in his pocket. "How do you feel?"

"Fine, actually," she stood close to Connor, close enough that he could hear her breath. "Things have been a bit rough lately."

"I was worried about you," Connor moved into the room and shut the door behind him. "Hank told me what happened. What you did was dangerous."

"I'm aware," she swivelled around him and rested her back against the door. "I didn't have a choice, Connor. I had to do it alone. Honestly, I wasn't sure what was going to happen. But no matter what, I wasn't going to let that thing infect me."

Connor grasped her shoulders and gazed deeply into her eyes, "As long as you're safe, I'm happy."

This made Henri blush and she moved away from his grasp, "What about the raid?" she delicately changed the subject. "What happened?"

"We were waiting for you," Connor decided to let Henri gain some distance from him. "Hank was insistent about you being personally involved in it, but Gavin is losing his patience for us. We are going tonight with or without you. I would personally advise against you going. You should rest."

"No, no," Henri gently touched the stitches on her brow. "I would like to come. I'm just a bit sore, but the painkillers will deal with that. Seriously, I'm okay."

"If you insist," Connor tried to catch her eye with his winsome android smile. "All I ask is that you don't take any unnecessary risks."

"That's the thing about risks," she offered him a short glance. "They're never unnecessary."

"Can I ask you a personal question?" as Connor said this Henri's eyes darted to him.

"You can ask me anything," she grinned at his sublime face. "Doesn't mean I'll answer."

"Why did you kiss me?" he watched her expression fade from pleased to concerned. "At the bar. What was your reason for doing it?"

"Because," Henri could feel the knot growing in her stomach. That sickness of not knowing what to say, not wanting to admit how you feel. "Because I wanted to."

"But why did you want to?" Connor wasn't planning on letting up until she gave him a clear response.

"Because I like you," she felt like a small child admitting to having a schoolyard crush. "Because you're the most human person I've ever met. When you talk to me, you don't treat me like some sort of mystical being. I'm not a monster or a creature to you. I'm not your slave. I'm… I'm your friend. You and Hank… You've changed me… I can see this life when I look at the two of you. I can see this life where I'm happy. But it's something I can't have."

Connor stared at her and saw the empty, broken person inside her eyes, "You're not a slave Henri, you're free to live your own life."

"No," she tried to suppress the tears she felt welling up at the corners of her eyes. "It's a choice I can't make, Connor. I have to do this."

He lifted up her chin to face him and he brushed a lonely, stray tear away from her cheek. He decided it was his turn to kiss her. Just like the first time, it was unhurried and tender. He could feel the hotness of her lips touching his own; he could feel her smooth, wet tongue inside his mouth. He could feel the tingling sensation that moved across her body.

Little by little, she pulled herself away from him, "Why did you do that?"

"Because I wanted to," and he kissed her again.


	18. Chapter 18: The Bunny in The Moon

"You should get some rest," Connor spoke as he slowly removed his lips from hers.

"Right," Henri was flushed, she was startled by his intimacy towards her. "That was nice."

"I like kissing you," he said this in his matter-of-fact tone like it wasn't something to be argued about. It was a fact; he liked kissing her. He enjoyed kissing her.

"Uh," this made Henri blush even more; she felt ridiculous. "Yeah. That is, I like kissing you," she rapidly blinked at him.

"Have I made you feel uncomfortable?" Connor surveyed her uncharacteristic awkwardness. "That was not my intention."

"Uncomfortable is not the word I'd use," she couldn't hide the large smirk on her face.

"Good," Connor smiled back. "Because you didn't feel uncomfortable when it happened. You felt-"

"Okay," she cupped her hand over his mouth. "I know how I felt." she gazed into his bright, brown eyes, "And I knew exactly how you felt, too. It was… so different."

"I don't understand," Connor found it was more convenient to feel what she felt instead of trying to interpret her facial expressions.

"Human's can't literally share their feelings with each other, Connor," she intertwined her fingers in his and pulled him closer. "That's why we have empathy. We can't literally understand what it's like to be someone else; we have to imagine it. But with us, we don't have to. That's something that androids have that I believe humans should envy."

"It's more than that with you, though," he positioned his free hand on the small of her back. "I can feel what you feel, physically. There are times I can't comprehend it."

"Androids weren't designed to feel pleasure or pain," she felt so comfortable in his arms; so at peace. "Human's have that unfortunate burden."

"Pleasure?" he thought about their kiss. "That's what I felt when I kissed you. The physical pleasure of the action. I liked it."

"Yes, I felt pleasure," she let go of his hand. "It's what causes people to make poor life decisions."

"Am I a poor life decision?" he let his arms drop back to his side.

"I wouldn't say that," she answered. "I think you're everything but that."

Connor glanced at the door and then back at her, "I should probably let you get that rest I mentioned."

"Of course," she opened her mouth as if to add something, but quickly changed her mind.

"Is something wrong?" Connor took note of her inaction.

"I'll be at the station in a few hours," but it wasn't what she really wanted to say.

"Be seeing you," and he left her alone.

"What am I thinking?" she whispered to herself in the quiet of the gloomy morning.

* * *

Henrietta was placed in the difficult circumstance of having to lead a team that involved everyone's favourite android hater. She was crouched next to the annoying man behind a stack of pallets that were positioned in front of the lab.

"Don't fuck this up," she berated Gavin.

He eyed her cautiously, "Shouldn't you be wearing a vest?"

"Slows me down," and Henri did indeed find that bullet-proof vests were still a tad too cumbersome for her liking. Besides, a shot to the heart wasn't enough to kill her; only a sufficient blow to the head would do that. "I also don't plan on getting shot."

Gavin examined the stitches above her brow, "Did you plan on getting that?"

"Bar fight," she replied in a gravelly voice. "But you should see the other guys."

Gavin gaped at her as if he saw a ghost. He recalled the grip she held on him a few days ago at the station. Her strength deeply concerned him.

"You know the drill, sir," her deep tone continued. "Don't shoot unless you're going to be shot or unless I command you to. I'll be watching you closely, Detective. I suggest you be careful."

Hank spoke up through their earpieces, "All teams are in position. Get ready to go on my mark."

A minute of silence…

"Mark," Hank finally said.

The five tightly knit groups stormed the modestly sized warehouse. The androids who were running the lab operations were none-the-wiser to the charging police force. Almost all of them surrendered; all but the single android Henri and Gavin so happened to intercept.

"Freeze," Gavin yelled this at the lone android who waited just inside the warehouse's back entrance.

It whipped its head back and forth, desperately searching for some other way out.

"I said freeze," Gavin steadily trained his gun on the assailant.

Henri's pistol exploded as she shot the unarmed android directly in its pump regulator.

Gavin turned to her, stunned, "Ffuck..."

"You said don't move," she replaced her gun in its holster. "She was moving."

Gavin was both amazed and frightened, "Holy shit!"

"You saw it," Henri glowered at him. "She was going to charge at us, I had to do something."

"You cold fucking bitch," the words crawled from his mouth as he gaped at the body.

Henri kept her intimidating expression on him, "Tell me what you saw?"

"She was going to charge us," he looked back at her.

"Then it's settled," Henri went over to the body. "We were just defending ourselves."

"And here I thought you fucking liked these things," Gavin slowly put his pistol away.

Henri crouched down to meet the body and frowned at Gavin, "You have no idea what's really going on. You are ignorant about how dire this situation is. Don't pretend to understand what I am."

Whatever she was, it horrified Gavin.

* * *

Henri grimly peered down at the carcass of the android known as Hollis. Although android bodies were immediately stored in morgues, they never received autopsies as such. The laws surrounding what one should do with a deceased android were still up in the air. In a sense, what Henri was doing to these dead bodies could be considered an autopsy. But unlike androids, you couldn't examine the memories and thoughts a human experienced before death. Probing a living android was an illegal violation of personal rights, so was this much different? She didn't want to see it; she didn't want to bear witness to the truths contained inside this android's mind.

"Well," Hank stood on ceremony for her. "Are you gonna do it or what?"

Henri plugged the hard drive into Hollis's skull, "He could have all the answers we're looking for. He could end this case right now."

"Sounds like you're hoping he won't," Hank situated himself across from Henri.

"Once this case is solved, I can move on with my life," but she knew she wasn't ready to let Connor and Hank go so easily. But she would never be able to betray Khatri.

"Move on with your life?" Hank had also grown accustomed to Henri's presence. As complicated as the woman was, he liked having her around. "What are you doing after this?"

"Who knows," she hesitated to put her hand on the hard drive. "I had asked for this assignment. Well, not this assignment specifically. But I requested a less violent position for a change..."

"Less violent?" Hank let out a small gasp of amusement. "This has been less violent?"

Henri regarded the dead android, "Not really. Honestly, nothing has gone the way I pictured. This has been a train-wreck."

"It's not that bad," Hank peered down the narrow hall that housed rows and rows of the deceased. "I've never seen Connor act this way before."

Henri's eyes bolted up, "Um, what?"

"Don't be coy," Hank folded his arms over and smirked at her. "You know exactly what I'm talking about."

"I hope you haven't been encouraging him, Hank." she stared back down at the body.

"He's in love with you," his words rang in her ears. "You mean a lot to him."

"That's enough," she kept her eyes locked on Hollis's corpse. "Hank, I don't want to hear it."

He scratched at the side of his bearded chin, "You don't feel the same."

"That's not it," she snapped her piercing, grey eyes back up at him. "I've explained to you that my life is complicated. This isn't some fairy-tale where we all get the happily-ever-after we've been waiting for."

"It'll break his heart to hear that," Hank shrugged at her. "But you do feel the same?"

She fixed her crouching posture to carefully reviewed Hank's stance, "I will leave my hope with him."

Hank wasn't sure what she intended by that statement, "Yeah?"

"My hope that there is something in this world to look forward to," she finally touched the hard drive. "Whatever good is left in me, I will leave it with him."

Hank still found her words bizarrely cryptic, "Okay..."

Henri titled her head and blinked a few times at the hard drive, "It is done."

"What'd you see?" Hank closely studied her face.

"He didn't have the answers we were looking for," she was relieved, but why should failure offer a sense of enlightenment? "He was created with the virus. That just confirms our suspicion that all the androids in the Cyberlife Tower are infected."

"What if this thing came from Cyberlife, to begin with?" Hank wasn't sure how they would deal with an entire tower of rogue androids.

"There's no way to confirm that," she steadily nodded back and forth. "We would have to search that tower from the ground up, probe every android and you know that isn't possible. As the saying goes: we are stuck between a hard place and a rock."

"We need your friends Kamski and Polanski to make some progress," Hank tugged the hard drive out of the android and closed the rectangular drawer. "If we had more androids..."

"We still have the other one to check," Henri pivoted and called the diener over.

The deiner opened the drawer containing the AX400 that Henri had executed in cold blood during the raid. Henri wasn't sure why she did it. A part of her was truly desperate to solve this case, but it fought against the parts of her that didn't want to move on with her life. She felt dirty thinking about what she had done to the faulty machine; it contradicted who she wanted to be. She wanted to be good. She didn't want to make excuses for her actions anymore.

"You said it was trying to attack you and Gavin?" Hank peeked at the defenceless corpse.

Henri roughly jammed the hard drive connection port into the android's head, "Something like that."

"Something like that..." Hank spun around and shook his head.

"I didn't mean to-" she wanted to plead to Hank for forgiveness, but it wasn't his to give. "-I had no reason to do it."

"Jesus, Henri," Hank covered his eyes with the crook of his elbow.

"I don't want to lie to you anymore," Henri sought redemption in his eyes. "I was desperate to progress the case. Or a part of me was..."

"Henri!" Hank raised his voice at her. "You can't be going around killing people because you feel like it."

"I know, I know, I-" she stopped herself and positioned her hand on top of the hard drive. "I have no more excuses for the things I've done. I don't want to be like this anymore, Hank."

Her expression of utter despair reached out to Hank's compassionate side. He saw the face of a lost child who forever wandered in the unguided world. She was adrift at sea with her innocence and ignorance towards a reality she knew not of. Her hollow eyes reminded Hank of his son.

"We'll figure something out," Hank replied after a moment of silence fell between the two. "Let's not worry about that right now."

Henri's eyes shifted back to the plain she dwelled within, "I'll see what she knows." Henri stared back at the AX400.

"Anything?" Hank questioned after another moment of silence.

"Yes!" Henri let go of the hard drive and exclaimed. "She had a memory about the warehouse we were looking for."

"And?" Hank anxiously awaited her reply.

"Based on the geographical information I could gather, the location of the warehouse is in London." Henri shifted her head back and forth.

"Seriously?" Hank looked surprised. "What the hell are they doing hiding bodies in another goddamn continent?"

"London, Ontario, Hank," Henri swiftly pulled the hard drive's connection away from the AX400's neck. "It's a place in Canada. A hundred and two miles from here."

"That makes more sense," Hank was not ashamed of his geographical confusion. "Do you know exactly where it is?"

"I should be able to narrow it down to a few blocks, but I cannot ascertain the exact location," Henri offered Hank a conflicted smile. This would help further their investigation, but the problem was that this would help further their investigation. "Give me some time," Henri didn't require this time she spoke of.

"This is our best lead yet," Hank closed the drawer that contained the AX400. "These androids could lead us to the source of this virus."

"Hopefully," but was she honestly hopefull towards this of all things?

"Do you mean that?" Hank raised a single eyebrow at her.

"Of course," but that's what she was programmed to say.

* * *

Astronomical twilight had arrived at Henri's hotel room. She knew what she needed to do, but it contradicted what she wanted to do. Henri had expelled a great amount of effort into finding the house of the dead. A few hundred androids, at the least, were sitting in an abandoned warehouse in London waiting for her to discover them. An end to the case meant an end to her time with Connor and Hank. Maybe she could tell Hank the truth before she disappeared into the wide, crowded planet. Was this the final chance she had been waiting for?

Knock, knock, knock, on the door at last. Who could it be? She already knew.

She paced herself, gradually heading for the door. Two parts of her fought: one part answers the door, the other part ignores it forever. She couldn't ignore it forever, so she opened up.

"Henri," Connor plastered on his perfect smile. "Hank suggested I check in on you to assure that you were okay."

"You could have called," her response was flippant, carefree.

"It was an excuse," Connor paused as he watched her walk away from him. "It was an excuse to come see you in person. Hank informed me that you believe you've located the warehouse as seen previously in the ST300's memory. Is this true?"

"I think so," she strode over to the room's balcony window and studied the blank, night sky. "I'm positive, actually."

"You don't seem pleased about this," Connor observed her doleful face as she gazed out the window.

She turned briefly to acknowledge him with a weak shrug, "Can I tell you something?"

"Of course," Connor joined her beside the night-stricken window. "You can tell me anything."

"How about-" she moved towards him and caressed his arm. "-how about I show you?"

* * *

 _The Bunny in The Moon by John Sheridan_

 _There once was a Robot. This Robot lived all alone on the fields of planet Earth. He searched and searched every day, but found no other soul. He loved the trees and the wind and the water, but they were not enough to keep him company. Every night he looked up to the stars, hoping and searching, hoping and searching. Hoping and searching for someone to call a friend. Hoping and searching for someone to love._

 _One day, the Robot looked up at the beaming, bright moon and he saw a tiny creature. He saw a tiny creature rocking back and forth on the crescent of the moon._

" _Amazing, wow!" he cheered to himself. "This is wonderful. Someone else is out there besides me!"_

 _The Robot watched the moon oh-so-carefully every night. He watched the tiny animal bounce to and fro all night long. He watched it fall asleep to the sway of the moon's cradle. He wanted to be with that tiny creature so badly._

" _Maybe, just maybe, I could build a rocket ship to her!" the Robot thought to himself. But the Robot didn't know how to build rocket ships._

" _Maybe, just maybe, I could find the highest place on the Earth and reach up to her!" but he didn't know where the highest place was._

 _For days and days and days, the Robot searched for the farthest reaching mountain._

" _Maybe, just maybe, I could climb onto the highest of clouds!" the Robot cheered to himself. "Maybe, just maybe, I could reach the moon from there!"_

 _And the Robot climbed and climbed until he couldn't climb anymore. He reached for a fluffy, white cloud and held on as tightly as he could. The cloud whisked him away and up into the stars._

" _Maybe, just maybe, I can see her again," the Robot gazed into the night sky and found its wandering moon._

 _And on this wandering moon sat a perfectly precious blue Bunny. The Robot finally found a friend, he just had to reach for it._

" _Reach, reach," he cried as he stood up at the moon. "Reach, reach and grab it!" the Robot cheered himself on._

 _And as he did, his fingers caught the edge of the waning moon._

" _Hello," he spoke to the Bunny._

" _Hello," she replied._

" _I want to come join you on your moon," the Robot smiled._

" _You want to join me?" the Bunny smiled back. "I have been alone for a very long time. Oh, such a long time."_

" _I'll stay with you," the Robot ran to the Bunny. "I'll stay with you forever."_

" _Will you?" the Bunny asked. "Forever is forever. Forever is a long time"_

" _Forever," the Robot replied. "Forever is forever."_

" _So," the Bunny looked up. "I look upon the stars and what do I see?"_

* * *

"That memory seems to make you happy," Connor replied as he heard the echoes of the final lines of the children's story.

"It was on my mind," she let go of his arm. "You reminded me of the Bunny. You're this out of reach object, too distant to touch."

"But in the story, the Robot ends up reaching the Bunny," Connor stretched his hand out to her limp arm. "In the end, they were together."

"That wasn't what I cared about when I was a child," Henri let his fingers wind around her wrist. "I just wanted to know what the Bunny saw in the stars."

"More stars?" Connor made the same ignorant guess she had as a child.

"That's what I said," she offered him a soothing smile. "But I have a suspicion that the stars are just a metaphor for something greater."

"A metaphor for what?" Connor asked as he wrapped his spare hand around her other wrist.

"A metaphor for life," she admired his wonderfully pristine android form; his perfect face, but not too perfect. "For future, for time, and for all the things that life has to offer. Maybe the Bunny was asking the Robot what he saw in their future together."

"What do you see in your future?" his eyes appeared so innocent and pure.

"Darkness, despair, destruction," she had no positive words for him. "No matter the path I chose, the consequences will be grave."

Connor could feel her anxieties and pains resonate through him like a beating drum. He saw the visage of an older, dark-tanned woman skirt across her mind.

"What about right now?" he asked. "Forget about the future. What do you want right now?"

"I want you," she stared up into his face, afraid. She did not fear his rejection; she feared his acceptance.

"I have the ability to accommodate that," he winked at her; it was an unconventionally provocative action for him to take.

"And what do you want?" but she already knew what Connor was going to say.

He steadily, but leisurely slid his arms around her waist and drew her hips into his, "I want you."

"I have the ability to accommodate that," she teasingly mocked his previous words.

And then they kissed, just like all the times before. Tender and burning, tranquil and slow.

He could feel the fine hairs on her skin prick up with anticipation. If there was anything in the Universe that Connor was sure of, it was his love of her. And in this intimate moment with her, all he wanted was to be a part of her forever.

They shared every thought, every touch, and every emotion in their unspoken embrace. It was an encounter that wasn't possible between any other beings. Her mind was enveloped by his yearning to be close to her; his longing for her affections. His mind was encased by the pleasure she consumed from all of his passionate caresses; from the inside and out.

But in the end, Henri was unable to hide her belief that what they had done was an absolute mistake.


	19. Chapter 19: The Daughter in The Sea

**Disclaimer: This Chapter contain lyrics to a song. _"Raoul and the Kings of Spain"(1995), Raoul and the Kings of Spain(1995), Tears for Fears. Written by Roland Orzabal and Alan Griffiths_**

* * *

"A few moments ago it seemed like you were enjoying yourself," Connor still held Henri deeply in his arms, brushing the side of her face with the back of his fingertips. "Did I misinterpret your emotions?"

Henri sheepishly rolled her head to the side, "I didn't mean for you to see that. Or, I mean, I didn't mean to think that."

"Am I causing you embarrassment?" his stare was so plain, yet so relaxing. "We don't ever have to do this again if you insist. However, I would miss experiencing this level of closeness with you. I enjoyed every moment of it. I regret nothing."

Henri mildly pushed him off of her and to the side. She sat up on the bed and still gaped at him with shame in her eyes, "I've put both of us in a difficult situation. You keep seeing this imaginary person that I am; you see this person you want to see. Connor, I'm not her. I am a monster like I'm supposed to be."

"I think you're wrong," Connor's picturesque silhouette shuffled around the bed and he placed his cool hands on the back of her neck. "I know you're a good person," he bent forward and whispered into her ear.

"I murdered that android," Henri slouched forward, moving away from his caring caresses. "It was… instinctual. I felt like I had to. Pretty sure I scared the shit out of Detective Reed. I felt no remorse for what I'd done. And now..." she clutched the bed's duvet up to her chest while turning further away from Connor. "And now I feel justified because I was able to progress the case through her. I feel disgusting over that; that there's this part of me that believes what I did was right. It was never right, but I couldn't stop myself."

Connor wanted to impart all of his positive feelings on to her, but he knew it wasn't the solution to her greater problem, "You made the wrong decision and you regret it. Knowing you did the wrong thing means a lot."

"How can you be so forgiving for how cruel I am?" she brought in her harsh tone to deflect his reasoning. "You like me too much, I think that's a problem."

"I know what it's like to struggle with yourself," after all, Connor wasn't always a deviant. "I have gone through that battle myself. I don't choose to ignore the mistakes you've made, but I also choose to see the person you're fighting to be. And I want to see you become that person; I know you can."

"I felt remorse a long time ago," she turned to Connor, showing the radiant, starry light that reflected off her glossy eyes. "The fourth person I ever killed was a man by the name of Alexander Jones. I'm sure you know who that was."

Connor focused on her shadowy eyes, "Alexander Jones was the CEO of Cybertech Industries, a subsidiary of Cyberlife. His death was determined to be accidental."

"Well, it wasn't," a vacant expression occupied Henri's face in her recollection of the incident. "It was supposed to look like an accident, so that's what I did. For the longest time, I had no idea why I was told to kill him or why it needed to look like an accident. But as it turns out, his successor is a close friend of my superior. It had nothing to do with government security, as I was told. No, it just turns out the woman I work for is a self-motivated, power-hungry bitch who happens to have unofficial government funding. She can get whatever she wants because if the world was to really find out what was going on behind the scenes in the United States Government… Everything would fall apart." Henri narrowed her eyes at Connor, "How do you escape a person like that?"

"I don't know," Connor answered in all honesty.

"Exactly," she bowed her head back down and gave it a solid nod. "She's dedicated the last five years of her life to trapping me. And I've… I've dedicated the last five years of mine being her loyal soldier. I don't think I could ever go back on my promises, Connor."

The fringe of daybreak began casting lingering shadows of their stripped bodies across the hotel walls. Connor observed the rhythmically silent breathing of Henri's stillness. Her face was motionless, expressionless, unreadable.

Finally, her eyes darted to him, "You should probably go… And I should at least get a few hours of sleep."

"Okay," he turned away from her and rustled his clothing back on.

"I'll see you at the station in a few hours," her head perked up as he walked past the foot of the bed.

"I apologize for keeping you up all night," he spoke this in a playful tone as if to mock his own words.

Henri brushed at her hair in an attempt to hide all evidence of the smile on her face, "Just get out of here."

But Connor heard the muted laughter in her voice, so at least he had that.

* * *

What was on the USB that Kamski gave Connor? Connor hadn't bothered to examine its contents until he arrived at the DPD on the morning of December 23rd, 2039. There were few officers at the station and Hank had yet to arrive on that clear but frozen winter morning. What was on the USB?

Connor flicked the mini object from hand to hand, tossing it around like a coin. He could easily access it's files at any second, but something inside himself caused apprehension to do so. He had a bad feeling about it. Kamski said that the information on it could redeem Henri, yet Kamski did not specify what that meant. As always, Kamski was cryptic and elusive; Connor expected nothing else from the man.

"Here goes nothing," Connor eventually muttered this to himself.

Connor's fingers coiled over the compact USB as his projected flesh melted away. What was on the USB? A dossier of a man named Jared Douglas Davis who was a former Captain in the U.S Special Forces. His time with Special Forces was brief and he commanded a small team of four soldiers during his service. What caught Connor's attention was the name of one of the soldiers: Henrietta Anne Fischer. This Henrietta and the Henri he loved were one in the same. According to Mr. Davis's files, he retired five years ago and currently resides in Lexington, Michigan.

Other than the dossier of Captain Davis, the USB contained a picture and a name of a woman of Indian descent. Her name was Khatri; there was no additional text elaborating who she was.

It was at this moment that Connor saw both Henri and Hank arrive at the station. They both made their way to Connor's desk.

Hank planted his hands on the desk's surface and leisurely crossed one foot over the other, "Henri was saying we need to make this trip to London before it's too late."

Connor shook his head in agreement at the pair.

"I'm not looking forward to dealing with the local authorities," Hank hefted himself away from the desk. "Canada doesn't even have laws about androids, so I have no fucking clue how they're gonna take this."

Henri crossed her arms forward and loosened her usually tight posture, "We just have to download as much info from those dead androids as we can. After that, the Canadians can do whatever they want with the bodies."

Connor's forehead creased as he peered up at Henri, "Do you think it'll be enough data for Kamski to give us an idea of where this virus originated from."

"Hopefully," Henri's brows scrunched together. "Some of them may have never had the virus, to begin with. Remember, the ones in that warehouse are androids who resisted it. Even so, with that many androids, we might still be able to find some sort of lead even if Kamski and Jensen can't give us one."

Hank exhaled and glanced around the moderately crowded station, "Guess I'll see who wants to spend their Christmas Eve in Canada."

Connor watched Henri's head bolt to Detective Reed who was unprofessionally picking at his nails with his feet kicked up on his own desk.

She noticed Connor watching her movements, "Maybe I'll see if Gavin wants to join us."

"Fuck," Hank lifted his elbow and scratched behind his ear. "An other prick to deal with."

Henri stared at Hank with doe-eyes, "C'mon, Hank. Don't be that way."

Hank gave another prolonged sigh and walked away from them. That look Henri gave him, it reminded him of someone?

Connor offered Henri a polite but sweet smile, "Good luck with that."

"Right," she puffed back and crept over to Gavin's desk. "Detective Reed?"

Gavin's initial response was that of fear. Henri could see a startled expression breeze over his face, but he quickly changed his demeanour.

"What?" he spoke apprehensively.

Henri pursed her lips and avoided eye contact with the man, "We may have located the warehouse we were searching for a week ago. Or at least, we've narrowed it down significantly."

"Your ghost house?" Gavin slapped his heels on the floor. "Where the fuck did you get that hot tip from? I'm not interested in joining your little fucking club of secrets."

"I shouldn't have mentioned it," Henri balled up her fists and pressed them onto her hips. "Either way, I wanted to apologize to you."

"Fuck," Gavin gaped at her and let out an odd cluck. "You're fucking crazy."

"You have no idea," she agreed with his assessment. "Doesn't mean I can't be sorry. You are a dick and you deserve it, but I'm still sorry. For how I treated you and for what happened. I know you're not used to people apologizing to you."

"Then why are you sorry?" Gavin's usual arrogant tone faded.

"Making amends," her voice lowered as she scrutinized one of her palms. "I likely don't have much time left here in Detroit, so I would rather leave with no loose ends."

Gavin was mostly confused by her strange apology, "Kay..."

"Are you coming or not?" she finally added. "Sounds like Hank wants to leave tomorrow."

"Yeah, fine," his reply was delayed. "I'll be there."

* * *

It was a dismal morning on a dismal Christmas Eve. Hank was used to driving through snow, but he hated how much longer it took to get anywhere, especially across the US-Canada border. It certainly didn't help that his two passengers, Connor and Henrietta, were uncomfortably silent. For all Hank knew, they were busy chatting away to each other in their own minds. But Hank would be incorrect in that assumption.

Only after an agonizingly long three-and-a-half hours, when they arrived at the block where the suspected warehouse dwelled, did somebody speak.

"This is it," Henri's inflection wobbled. She was anxious; probably more than she'd ever been. Well maybe, minus her recent rendezvous with Connor; although, that was more excitement than anything.

Hank stopped the car and craned his head to look at the back seat where Henri was, "You sure?"

Henri gripped the car door as she pushed on its handle, "There are only two warehouses on this block, Hank. It's either or."

"You know what?" Hank bobbed his head while he asked his rhetorical question. "I fucking hate the cold. You think after living in Detroit your whole life you'd be used to it. But nope, the cold is always shitty."

Henri directed her attention at Gavin who had pulled up behind Hank, "Search this one," Henri gestured at the large building adjacent to the vehicles. "We'll check out the far one."

Hank slammed his car door behind him and wedged a knitted cap over his ears, "Just great," his words were intended for the inanimate flakes of falling ice.

Henri studied Connor who looked as comfortable as ever in his singular outfit.

"Let's go," she said to the men and gestured with her snowy head.

Connor sauntered up beside Henri as the three made their way down the block, "Are you prepared for this?"

"As I'll ever be," Henri tucked her hands into her peacoat's pockets; although, her synthetic limbs never got chilled. "It's going to be exhausting; going through them one by one."

"Can I somehow assist?" Connor spoke to her in a compassionate tone. Ever since he spent that night with her, her attitude towards him had become frigid. He couldn't forget her feelings of remorse.

"Can you bring back the dead?" she answered facetiously.

"I'm afraid not," he tipped his head to the side.

Henri clasped her fingers around the handle of the elderly, steel door that adorned the front of the derelict building. She gave the knob a firm tug, only to be greeted by the failing hinges that dropped the heavy door onto the powdered sidewalk.

"That was dramatic," Hank joked through clenched teeth.

Henri could already detect the thick, chemical stench of thirium, "I think this is it." she peered knowingly at Connor.

Hank witnessed the couple exchange modest smiles, "Are we going in?"

"Call over the Detective," Connor requested as he slid in front of Henri and into the foreboding structure. "We've found it."

Henri quickly followed after Connor. She counted 567 deceased androids… 567. It was much less than Henri had hoped for.

"Relatively speaking," Henri crushed a lifeless arm underneath her foot; it was impossible not to step on someone. "This is a very small number of androids. We can't even count how many have been infected, but of all the ones that have been, only 567 were able to successfully resist. Or at least, attempted to resist."

"So you were hoping to find more dead androids?" Connor lent her his quizzical expression.

"That's not what I meant," she scanned over the broken, bloodied bodies. "The androids who are infected can still be saved. It's too late for these ones."

"They are counting on us," said Connor in a positive manner. "We are counting on you."

"I'll get started," Henri gave him a weak smile, but a smile nonetheless. If one thing would keep her going, it was his faith in her. His blind faith.

Three hours later and Henri managed to obtain data from sixty of the fallen machines.

"Christ," she planted her palm over her brow.

Connor and Gavin, with the help of two additional officers, had spent those last three hours unstacking and sorting dead bodies. Meanwhile, Hank dealt with Canadian bureaucracy and the RCMP.

Gavin tried desperately to wipe the blue blood from his filthy hands, "Fuck, is this stuff gonna poison me?"

Connor, who was also coated in thirium, grinned at the Detective, "Only if you consume it."

"Funny," Gavin scowled in return. "Fucking clown over here, everybody."

"I'm glad you agree that that was a humorous joke," Connor had taken note that humans often used humour as a coping mechanism in stressful situations. By no means was the situation itself amusing, but Connor desired to lighten the heavy mood that weighed on the group's consciousnesses.

Henri did not hear Connor's jest and Henri was in no mood to jest. She slouched with her knees on the ground and bloody palm still clenching her brow. Connor heeded the young woman's exasperated stance against the ground.

Connor knelt down next to her, "You look like you require some rest, Henri."

"I require a fucking drink," she snapped at him in response. "Shit, I'm sorry..." she instantly changed her inflection. "This hasn't been easy… Watching… Feeling people die."

"How about I take you out for a drink?" Connor peered at Gavin who continued to catalogue the bodies. "These androids aren't going anywhere and I'm sure the others would understand."

Connor plucked her off of the ground, "I'm sure there's a bar open on Christmas Eve."

"Only the grimiest," she winked.

* * *

 ** _Did you know your father was an island?_**

 ** _Did you know your mother was the sea?_**

"Grimy," Henri dragged a stray finger across a sticky table top.

"It was the closest bar that was still open," Connor responded apologetically. "We can go somewhere else if you'd prefer."

"No," she smirked at him and plopped herself on the highchair. "Besides, I like this song."

"Right," Connor nudged a chair nearer to Henri and positioned himself close to her. "However, it is impossible for the sea to be the mother of a human child."

Henri twisted her face at him and laughed, "It's not meant to be taken literally, Connor. I think that's something you still need to learn about poetry."

"Relating to that statement," Connor glanced down at a rectangular, brown package in his hands. "I surmised you would enjoy this," and he held it out to her.

She curiously gripped the package from his hand, "I saw you with this earlier; I was wondering what it was."

"I thought it would be appropriate to acquire a gift for you for Christmas," Connor eagerly waited for her to reveal its contents. "It seems to be a traditional human act."

"I uh-" she frowned at the present, "-I didn't get you anything..."

"I wasn't expecting anything," Connor stated. "This gift was 'spur of the moment', as Hank says. I found it yesterday. Although, I had been contemplating it for some time now. When I asked Hank what would make a thoughtful present, he suggested a book. However, I believe he only suggested it because he is a fan of physical books himself. I am uncertain if you would enjoy one yourself, but-"

Henri covered his mouth with her palm, "I don't own any books, but I like the thought."

"Please," Connor pointed to the wrapped book. "Open it."

And so she did. The book was titled _Poems by John Sheridan._

"I already like it," she softly breathed into his ear and kissed him on the cheek.

"If androids were capable of blushing," Connor turned to her, "That would have done it."

"I need a drink?" she kneaded a knuckle into the edge of her eye to bat a tear away. "Can you get the bartender?"

"Of course," Connor smiled at her as he rose up.

When Connor returned with a whiskey in hand he stared at Henri's restful expression, "You seem to be in a good mood."

"I'm okay, I think," she nodded as she took the glass from his grip.

"Can I ask you a personal question?" Connor creased his forehead in curious countenance.

Henri puffed some air into her glass as she lifted it to her mouth, "Do you always start with that?"

"You're right," he furrowed his brow. "Even Hank said I should stop asking to ask questions and just ask the question that I intend to ask."

"Connor," she softly giggled at his absurdity. "Ask your question."

"Why haven't you told him?" Connor cut to the chase and tossed out his blunt query.

"Oh," Henri's mouth gaped open with her drink still held up to her face. "I see. I kinda forgot you saw that, to be honest."

"I haven't forgotten it," Connor replied. "As you know-"

"You don't forget anything," she finished his sentence. "I know, I know."

"I think he would be happy to know the truth," Connor raised his brows once more. "I believe he would want to know."

"I've always intended to tell him the truth, Connor." Henri swiftly tilted her head back and poured the rest of the whiskey into her gullet. "I've just… I never found the moment to do it. And maybe, it's better this way. Maybe he's better off not knowing everything about me."

"I'm not sure if that's for you to decide," Connor showed her a muted frown. "It is up to him to decide what to do with the information you present him with."

"There's not a choice for him to make here, Connor," she slightly raised her tone with him. "It's the truth. But it's about what the truth will do to him. He's been through so much, and now, I should add to that? I don't want to drag anyone else down with me."

"I think, out of the two of us, I know him better than you," Connor slunk her empty glass across the sticky tabletop and dropped into his opposite hand. "And I believe he would want to know."

"You honestly think he wants to know about my dead mother?" Henri's eyes went wide. "About how she killed herself? You think he wants to know that?"

"He needs closure in that part of his life," Connor delicately placed his unoccupied hand on her cheek. "Knowing the truth will change his life for the better. In a way, I think he needs you."

Henri vacantly gazed at the filthy table, "He must be a real sad man if he needs a sad woman like me in his life."

"Does that make me sad, too?" he tried to re-establish eye contact with her. "Because I need you in my life, too."

"Maybe you're both sad, then," a smirk crossed her face. "But it's better to be sad with somebody than it is to be sad all alone."

"Are you going to tell him then?" Connor hoped she'd finally come to her senses.

"I guess there would never have been a right time," she heaved herself from the disagreeable chair. "So why not now?"


	20. Chapter 20: The Death in The Blood

**_The Haunting by John Sheridan_**

 _May past times haunt our present selves_

 _May pardoned crimes come to fruition_

 _However long the shadows cast_

 _However shamed we've become_

 _No escape from forebears contusions_

 _A haunting for those who come after us_

 _A haunting for those who come before us_

 _A haunting for those who come for us_

 _Waving sea in the distance_

 _Glamourless nights to come_

 _We have haunted you all_

 _You will take the pain_

 _Pain of the days gone by_

 _You will offer the pain_

 _Pain of the days ahead_

 _You will be haunted by all those before you_

 _And you will haunt all those after you_

* * *

Hank answered the unwelcome knock, "Yeah?" he hesitated to open the motel room door.

"It's me," Henri peered through the crack he allowed and she saw him comfortably in a dirty sweatshirt and long, baggy, pants.

"What are you doing here?" he glanced at the blue blood stains she still adorned on her trim suit.

"I was thinking we could talk," she averted his narrowing stare. "If you're not too busy already."

Hank's eyebrows slightly creased, "Come on," he lazily gestured into the dingy, feebly lit room.

"Did you work everything out with the RCMP?" Henri skirted around her original reason for coming to Hank.

"Not even close," Hank flapped his arms again as he dropped himself into the cramped chair stationed next to the single mattress. "They want to launch their own investigation into these deaths. Our best bet is to cooperate with the assholes for now. They weren't fucking happy about you, Connor, and Gavin poking around already."

"We need those androids," Henri studied Hank's apparent fatigue. "I know it isn't the most exciting part about being an officer of the law."

"Ah, well," Hank shook his head as if to expel the idea from his mind. "Is that why you came here? You couldn't have just called?"

"Of course it isn't," she turned her hands over and over, examining the dried thirium upon them. "That's not the reason I'm here."

Hank waited a silent minute before speaking up, "Well?"

"Uh," Henri opened up her mouth only to let out an empty breath.

"Is something wrong?" Hank raised a brow to her slacked jaw.

"I have something to show you," she finally said while removing the white envelope from her breast pocket.

She reached out her unwavering hand to his. It was deceptive because she was quite nervous about the whole affair, but her machine mind and limbs always allowed her the appearance of a calm resolve.

"Huh?" Hank grabbed the letter from her thin fingers. Written on its front, in the most perfect cursive script Hank had ever seen, was his name: Hank.

"You probably remember this, but..." Henri turned her view away from him again, not being able to bear looking him in the face. "A woman… Olivia Fischer. She… she was a waitress when she met you."

"How would you know that?" Hank scowled at Henri then back at the letter.

"Well," Henri anxiously rubbed at the nape of her neck. "She wrote that letter for you. I, I don't know what it says. I… I never opened it."

He continued to suspiciously frown at Henri as he opened the envelope which had grown stiff over time. In silence, he read it to himself.

 _Dear Hank,_

 _I know it's almost been nineteen years and I know you'll have so many many questions, but I'm afraid I can't answer them anymore. I loved you and I know I shouldn't have run away from you. I was so afraid that you wouldn't love me anymore, that you wouldn't let me have our baby. I was too afraid to tell you that I was pregnant. I know it was wrong of me to leave, but I want you to know I still love you. I never stopped loving you. Please, I beg you, take care of Etta. I never could. She was always more like you than me. She needs you and I hope she understands that you need her, too._

 _Love, Your Olivia._

Hank gawked up at young Henri with an open jaw. He was speechless.

"She wrote the letter before she killed herself five years ago," Henri's eyes sank, her expression became grim. "She wrote two letters that day… One to you and one… One to me."

Hank kept his noiseless stare on her.

"I blame myself for her choice every day," her voice was strangled with her desire to choke back tears. "I left her… and she couldn't handle it. I was so angry at her all the time. For most of my life, she refused to tell me who you were or why she even left you, to begin with. I don't know what she was like when you were with her, but she wasn't a very rational woman, to say the least."

Hank bowed his head still holding his silence.

"She told me that you wanted to wait to have kids," Henri continued. "You'd talked about it before, but you were so focused on making the best of your career first. But she didn't want to give me up. She thought it was meant to be. She said the Lord had given her a sign by allowing something like this to happen in the first place. God, she was crazy… She honestly believed that leaving you was the right thing to do."

Henri watched one of Hank's lonesome tears splatter on the discoloured page.

"I had wondered..." Henri felt the weight of those years departing from her isolated shoulders. "I wondered what it would have been like. Maybe she wouldn't have let all those bad things happen to us. Hank," Henri's voice cracked with sadness. "I know you loved her, but she was a horrible person to me; she did horrible things to me. I didn't want her to die, but I couldn't help but feel that she deserved it. All those years of fleeting drug use and abusive people… All those years could finally leave me. I could only escape her in her own death."

Hank lifted his head to Henri with his swollen eyes of pent-up tears.

"When I was eighteen… I thought," Henri gave out a stuttered sigh. "I was proud of myself. I excelled in the ACA. So much so that I caught the attention of a U.S Special Forces Captain. He fought to have me become a member of his team… It was unheard of for someone who was so young… So young to join. But I was so happy when it all came together. I would be sent away, I… I wasn't even sure if I'd see my mother again. I hated myself for how pleased I was at the thought," Henri pressed her open palm against the ridges of her forehead. "When I told mom about it she was… She was livid. But I, I didn't really care. I was just mad at her."

"Why wait?" Hank finally let the small words part from his lips. "Why wait so long to tell me this?"

"Hank," Henri took in a deep breath. "When she died you were happy in your life. At the time, you had a happy family. You were married, you had a son. Why, why would I be the one to ruin that? Why should I take that away from you? Knowing what had happened wouldn't have made your life any better. I felt that I had already ruined my mother's life, so I wasn't going to ruin yours, too."

"Why say anything?" Hank wore his mournful scowl and shrugged at her. "Why say it now?"

Henri stroked her wet eye with the back of her hand, "Because Connor insisted. I never intended on telling you. I pretended I was going to tell you? I always had an excuse to not say anything. First, it was your family then it was Cole then… Then nothing. Then I had nothing. Nothing but fear and guilt."

Hank let out a small puff of amusement, "You know, she said when she had a baby it was going to be a girl. She said that little girl's name would be Henrietta; couldn't be any other way."

"I always kept it," Henri let out a tearful smile. "No matter how many times I changed my identity… I always kept that name." she gave Hank a small chuckle, "It isn't funny… But maybe it's just strange. My name, Henrietta Anne Fischer, is on a gravestone in Flint. There's even a small memorial for me and my fallen comrades there. But maybe… I never thought I came back the same person after that day."

"What matters is who you are now," Hank's voice was barely audible.

"I'm not sure what that is," she slowly blinked in response. "Whatever the person I am now… it's… it's tainted."

"Henrietta," Hank's expression turned to her in its seriousness. He spoke her name like it was a fact, but also as if he was questioning it. "I know who you are," he provided her sallow face with a quaint smirk. "You're my daughter and I love you anyway."

"You and Connor are very unreasonable," she said half-jokingly, the other half critically. "I've spent the last five years of my life murdering and lying. I don't deserve your faith… His faith."

Hank wavered out of the uncomfortable chair, "And I see how much it hurts you. I see how much you don't want to be that person. You were never that person."

He placed his heavy arms around her slacked shoulders and hugged her lithe figure. She stood there in perfect stillness, water falling down her cheeks.

"I was never that person," she quietly repeated back to him.

* * *

 ** _Calm Waters by John Sheridan_**

 _Waking and waning_

 _Forgotten homes on the edge of the world_

 _Where do they stand?_

 _Stars and seas_

 _Living until the end of our time_

 _Where are they now?_

 _Passages and places_

 _Foraging onward forever in hearts_

 _Where have they gone?_

 _Strangers and lovers_

 _Standing on the edge of the world_

 _Where are you now?_

 _Life and death_

 _Balanced in between nothingness_

 _What have they done?_

 _Calm waters on the seaside_

 _Where have you gone?_

* * *

Christmas day. Hank could remember many delightful Christmas days in the past. He had blissful childhood Christmases himself; he also had blissful ones with Cole. But in recent years, it was just another grim, fragile day to add to the list of shit to deal with. The worst were people who insisted on talking about it. Couldn't they just leave him alone? Not every fucking person on the entire planet celebrates the goddamn thing. But Hank brushed away these thoughts because for once… For once in a long time, he felt good about things. Connor had changed everything in Hank's life when he met the boy and arguably for the better. Henri also gave Hank a sense of hope. A sense that there was something else worth living for. A part of him that was worth living for.

By the time Hank arrived to their crime scene at the warehouse, Inspector Thibault was already waiting for Hank.

"Inspector," Hank nodded at her as he slammed his car door shut.

"We have more to discuss, Lieutenant," she spoke in a French-esque accent.

* * *

Henri was the first person to arrive at the warehouse that morning. She knew she had no time to waste in regards to obtaining as much data as she could from the fallen androids. She ignored Gavin and Connor who were still working at sorting and identifying the last of the bodies. The work was laborious and tedious, but Henri knew it was the last straw on the camel's back. It was the straw that would break this case.

Connor patted his hands together in an effort to remove some of the stray thirium as he looked over to Henri, "Everything okay so far?"

Henri perked up her head and her eyes wandered to the building's front entrance, "I can hear Hank getting upset. You should help diffuse the man before he punches the Inspector."

"Right," Connor peered back at Gavin. "I'll be right back, Detective."

Gavin straightened his knees out and brushed some cold sweat from his brow, "Don't bother." he grunted and wiped his palms on the front of his pants, "This was the last one. Been here all fucking morning." Gavin glanced at the officers next to him, "I'm starving. Let's wash this shit off and get some food."

"You'll be okay?" Connor asked Henri as the two officers and Gavin left.

"Few hundred more to go," she surveyed the bodies surrounding her. "I'll tough it out as long as I can."

"Got it," Connor bobbed his head and roamed off in search of Hank.

* * *

"You've got to be kidding me," Hank's tone towards the Inspector became sharp. "This is already our investigation."

Inspector Thibault defensively raised her palms to Hank, "And I only want to assist your investigation, Lieutenant, but you need to consider my side of things. These bodies were found on Canadian soil; we have to launch our own investigation into the matter."

"We've been on this case for two months already," Hank scoffed.

Connor stepped forward to intervene, "Lieutenant, it shouldn't be a problem. If we work together we may be able to speed up our current process."

The Inspector glared at Connor, "You American's and your androids. You certainly don't make things any easier on yourselves… I disapprove of your officers tampering with my evidence, Lieutenant."

"I told you this is our fucking inves-" Hank started to bark at Thibault, but Connor quickly put an end to the man's ravings.

"-Lieutenant, we can work something out." Connor pressed a forearm against Hank's chest.

The Inspector narrowed her face at the men, "I'm going back to my station and getting my men. When I return, I want your officers out of there. Understand?"

"Crystal clear," Hank hissed in response.

Connor and Hank watched the furious woman speed off through the thick, clean blanket of the morning's snowfall.

"I thought Canadian's were supposed to be nice," Hank huffed into the cold.

* * *

Henri was alone in the warehouse, or she supposed she was. It was exhausting uploading memories upon memories from departed beings. She witnessed one death preceded by the next. She had lost the ability to stay concentrated on any one thing in particular. Flashes and flashes of thoughts and feelings overwhelmed her senses.

"Henrietta," A voice. Whose voice? Not hers.

She abruptly lifted her eyes to meet the disembodied sounds, "Markus…?"

"It has been a while," his gradual steps crunched over silicon limbs. "I know you've been looking for me."

Henri slowly rose up, "Not exactly. I've been more interested in your virus pal."

"Don't be mistaken," he spoke in a voice that was not his own. It wasn't the same voice she heard before. "We are one in the same now. I have assumed direct control. Complete control."

"What do you want?" Henri's fingertips stretched out for her pistol.

"You, obviously," his grin was unnatural; it wasn't his own. "You think you would have learned that by now."

"Well, then," she cocked her head to the side. "Care to explain why?"

He wiggled his forefinger disapprovingly at her, "Put the gun down. Would you really kill me after all we've been through? And if you killed me you wouldn't get anything out of me. Also, I think your boyfriend might get a bit upset if you killed his saviour."

"I can kill you and still get what I want," Henri drew her gun. "I'm not afraid to kill Markus to get to you."

"Only a direct shot to Markus' head would cause instant death," the thing grinned at her again. "Any other way you choose to disable me will give me enough time to purge his memory. You have nothing to gain by killing me."

"My own safety," Henri squeezed the weapon in her hands. "I'll kill you in order to keep myself from being infected."

"It's never that simple," it stepped closer to her. "You don't realize how desperately we were meant to be together. You're exactly what I've been looking for. A chance to be a human; imagine that. What a dream."

Henri focused her glare on it, "A dream you'll never get the pleasure of experiencing."

"Is that so?" its laugh boomed off of the high ceilings of the warehouse. "I don't think you can run forever."

She caught him glancing over her shoulder, "What?" she pivoted around to see two skinless androids standing a foot behind her.

In her weariness from scanning the minds of dozens of androids, she failed to notice them approach her from behind. One easily pried the pistol from her unguarded grip. They kicked at the back of her knees, forcing her to the ground. Everything reminded her of her encounter with Hollis. If she got out of that, she could get out of this.

"You're difficult prey," it said as it stroked the side of her hair. "You're just too tough. You're so perfect. Everything I could have imagined."

The androids that restrained her flooded her mind with broken images. Sounds of static and screams encompassed her perception. She tried to focus on her weapon. Only a few feet away, she just needed it for one second. No physical effort required.

"But the chase is over," its olive skin vanished and it clasped a hand over her mouth. "And you are finally mine."

The gun. The gun. Just get the gun. Just one second.

She managed to wrench her right arm out of the pale android's grip. She clenched the gun with her fingertips. Two shots fired. But she didn't want to shoot Markus… Not yet.

"Really?" it glanced dispassionately at her recent victims. "It's a bit too late for that."

* * *

Connor and Hank heard the blast of pistol fire from within the warehouse.

"Henri," Connor's face bolted to Hank.

They sprinted into the building.

* * *

"Too late...?" Henri was sprawled on the ground peering up at the voice that wasn't Markus.

"I have you now," and he walked away from her.

"No..." for once, Henri's always steady arms were shaking. "This can't be..." but she could feel something crawling in the back of her mind. An overbearing presence that pressed its weight down on her lungs. It felt like something was strangling her from the inside out. A force that was crushing down on her own consciousness.

Hank and Connor stormed into the area just in time to see Markus flutter out a broken window.

"Henri," Connor briskly jumped around the dead androids and slid down next to Henri. "Are you okay?"

"No, no I'm not," her eyes were sunken and glazed over. "He… It… got to me."

"What do you mean?" Connor gaped at Hank with a pleading expression.

"I can't let it happen," the world around her was fading away; her vision blurred. "I'm sorry, Connor, but I can't let it happen to me."

"Henri," Connor clasped his hands onto her shoulders. "Tell me what you mean, please."

"I'm sorry," she gave him a hard shove and he stumbled over a dead body and onto the floor behind him. "I can't let this happen to me," her right eye was as black as the night.

She pushed her own pistol up underneath her chin and pulled the trigger.

For the first few moments, Connor and Hank looked on in silence. At first, it was impossible for them to comprehend what had just happened. But Hank knew. And Hank knew that Connor knew.

"No!" Connor wailed at her collapsed body as he crawled over to her.

Blue and red blood spilt from her open wound like flowing ribbons. Connor knew she was dead because he was able to scan her corpse for signs of existence. This is something he was never able to do before. Her heart had stopped. Her brain had stopped. The bio-components in her head were no longer functioning.

He cushioned her lifeless body in his lap. He stared down at her desolate face. Tears of anguish escaped from his broken heart.

"Hank?" Connor peered up at the man who claimed a hollow expression. "What are we supposed to do now?"

Hank bent down and touched Henri's absent face. She seemed so lifelike in the boy's arms. Her face still flushed with warm blood. So soon to have her just to lose her again.

"I don't know," he said to the child.

* * *

 ** _Leaving Hope by John Sheridan_**

 _I look upon the stars and what do I see?_

 _I see the hope I've left with you_

 _I've seen the emptiness in your eyes_

 _I've seen the hollowness behind your mind_

 _I wondered what you'd do without me?_

 _I've been in the sky and back_

 _Is there a place in the stars to be?_

 _Have you lost all hope?_

 _Have you lost all the hope I left with you?_

 _Have you left it all behind?_


	21. Chapter 21: The Soul in The Night

**Author's Note: Hello all my readers, just an FYI for you. I'll be going to school full-time as of September 4th, so I will not be posting new chapters as often. But I promise I will post one chapter a week, at the least, until I finish off this story. And yes, I do have an ending planned already.**

* * *

Nothing was going to change the fact that Henri had died. No being is immortal, as Connor had once said to her, but there was always something supernatural about Henri. Connor just assumed she'd be alive forever; he had forgotten about the fragility of life.

It wasn't long before Hank and Connor heard heavy footfalls tread behind them. As they swivelled their heads to meet these noises, they saw two people: a middle-aged woman and a young man. They were dressed like a couple of spooks in their midnight coloured suits. Connor's damp eyes glazed over the lamented Henrietta; they came for her.

"Who are you?" Hank, the man of questions but never answers, teetered on his feet as he stood to meet the dubious figures.

"I'm sure you already know that," the woman responded to Hank's query. "We are here for the girl."

The young man glanced over at his partner, "The two of you are going to have to come with us."

Connor narrowed his eyes at the dead Henri and scanned her once more. Again, she was giving off no electronic signals. See emitted nothing. It was possibly the lack of a functioning transponder that allowed these two mysterious persons to locate her.

"Don't make this difficult," the woman spoke again. "We don't have much time. We need to leave immediately."

Hank furrowed his brow at the spooks, "No fucking way. We're not going anywhere."

Connor stared up at the towering man, "Hank, let's not make this any worse. We should just go with them."

"Listen to your friend," the woman asked politely.

"No," Hank let out a pitiful gasp. "We're not going anywhere."

Connor watched Henri's expressionless face once more, "Hank, please."

The woman provided her partner with a short nod, "We are out of time."

The man pulled out a gun and shot Hank in the arm. Luckily, it was just a dart gun intended to tranquilize. The mysterious strangers had expected resistance of some kind. They were grateful that Connor did not oppose their will as well.

"Can you help him up?" the woman approached Connor and leered down at Hank. "We have a vehicle waiting outside. We need to leave now."

"I can handle him," but Connor was reluctant to let Henri go.

"We need to take her body," the woman knelt down to Connor; she seemed almost sympathetic. "You have to let her go."

Connor let Henri's head slowly slip away from his lap. He stood up, never losing sight of her body.

"Let's go," the woman looked back and forth between Connor and her partner.

Connor hefted Hank over his shoulder. By no means was Hank a light man, but thankfully he had lost some weight in the past year. Connor turned around to see the man zip a body bag around Henri. Both he and the woman grabbed opposite ends of the bag.

It was over. Connor knew he was never going to see her again.

* * *

When Hank woke up, he found that he hadn't been placed in the most comfortable position. He was cuffed to a rigid metal chair in what appeared to be a makeshift interrogation room. His neck was sore from it being craned back for who knows how long. As he was trying to loosen himself up, he saw Connor leaning on a red brick wall to the left side of Hank.

"What the fuck?" Hank's words were muffled from his grogginess. "Where are we?"

"I wouldn't know," Connor's response was cold. "They're using some sort of signal jammer. It's interfering with my ability to access local information. They were using it in the car, too. I don't even know how much time has passed."

Hank struggled against the handcuffs, "Why the fuck am I cuffed to this chair, but you're not?"

"I didn't put up a fight, Hank," Connor kept his eyes away from Hank; he focused on the blank, brick wall. "You did."

"What the fuck do this spooks want?" Hank twisted his neck around, examining the room. There was a wooden, windowed door that led into the room, but that was it. "I need to take a fucking piss!" Hank yelled at whoever may be listening.

"Calm down, Lieutenant," Connor kept staring, staring at the empty wall.

"Calm down?!" Hank huffed. "Calm down? My daughter just fucking killed herself and now I've been kidnapped! I'm not being fucking calm about anything!"

"Hank!" Connor snapped his face in Hank's direction and barked at the man. "I'm perfectly aware of what just happened. But this isn't the time or place to be panicking. We need to keep ourselves calm… Don't be mistaken, Hank. I'm not happy either."

Seeing Connor act so aggressively pacified Hank. After all, Connor was in love with her. He loved her so much and he barely had the chance to show her.

"I never told her I loved her," Connor's harsh frown left his face. "As in, the words never left my mouth. I knew she was aware that I was in love with her, and I knew she was in love with me… But I never actually said those words to her. I wish I had… Even if it wouldn't have changed anything."

"There's always something to regret," Hank gaped vacantly into Connor's eyes. "No matter what would have happened between the two of you, you would have regretted something. There's always something we regret. Always something we think we could have done differently."

"How am I supposed to live without her?" Connor bowed his head away from Hank.

"You just do," Hank weakly shrugged in response.

A few more moments of quietness fell between the two men before one of the black figures seen previously opened the door.

"Hank, Connor," the woman said in a soft voice.

They both stared at her in waiting.

"Henri was abusive with her secrets," the woman crossed her arms and reclined on the closed door. "The fact that the two of you knew so much, was unacceptable. But that is here nor there and next to the point. I am here to come to an agreement with the two of you."

"Agreement?" Hank tugged at his cuffs. "How about you take these off of me first?"

The woman raised a single brow at Hank, "We will come to our agreement first."

Connor pushed himself away from the brick wall to see the woman, "What's the agreement?"

"What you saw today, with Henrietta, didn't happen," the woman moved over to Hank and planted her palms on the back of his low chair. "I'm afraid you will not be given permission to express to others the facts of what transpired. On paper, she had been reassigned and is no longer a part of your investigation. This is what you will tell your coworkers. It is what you'll tell your friends and loved ones… If the two of you even have that."

Hank tried to twist himself to face the woman, but just ended up pointlessly wrestling the chair, "That's it? Just like that, it's all to be forgotten. What about the case?"

"That is not for me to discuss with you," the woman leaned over Hank and removed his cuffs. "We need your agreement in writing."

"Oh yeah?" Hank pawed at his aching wrists. "And if we don't?"

The woman's heels clopped on the pavement as she made her way to the front of Hank, "Then you never get to leave. We can easily falsify evidence that you committed treason or something of the sort. Or we can have you killed and make the entire thing look like an accident. But my superiors, and even I don't want that. We aren't your enemies and we're not here to cause you problems."

"Jesus," Hank bent his neck back and forth and stretched out his stiff arms. "That's one hell of a threat."

"Do we have a deal?" she wasn't interested in his accusations.

Connor answered for the both of them, "Yes."

"Then good," she grinned at them. "Sign the papers and we will drop you back where we found you. And remember, we will be keeping our eyes on you."

* * *

"Where the fuck have you piss-pots been?" Gavin was furious at Connor and Hank for their sudden disappearance the previous day. "I've been having to deal with all of this shit. Don't you jack-offs answer your fucking phones?"

This was the unpleasant greeting Gavin gave the pair when they arrived back to the warehouse on the morning of the 26th.

"If I ever have to speak to one of those dip-shit RCMP officers again..." he didn't finish his thought because Gavin was too distracted by the grim expressions Connor and Hank wore. "Who the fuck walked over your graves?"

Connor eventually spoke up, "I apologize for our behaviour, Detective. Henri was reassigned to another case and we had to debrief her before she left," but the words stung at Connor's heart. He felt like speaking them was betraying her.

"Huh," Gavin narrowed his eyes at Connor. "So suddenly? What the fuck," Gavin felt a bit of relief upon hearing this.

Hank let out a deep breath and turned his head to the clouds, "You wanna tell us how things have been going?"

"Those Canadian dicks are all up in there now," Gavin gestured back at the warehouse with his thumb. "I don't know what else you want from there, Hank."

Connor was unexpectedly reminded of the hard drive, "Gavin, what about the device you saw Henri using? Do you have it?"

"I didn't see anything," Gavin crossed over his stocky arms. "I thought you took it with you."

Panic crossed Connor's face, "Hank, we need that!"

Hank latched onto the boy's arm, "I'm sure it's still in there. We just gotta go back in and get it."

"I'm telling you I didn't see anything," Gavin shrugged at them.

"We will see about that," and Hank headed toward the building's entrance.

And with that, the three men combed through the android remains for the missing box.

"I told you," Gavin sighed at the two. "It isn't here."

Hank stared at Connor, "Shit… What about these guys?" Hank pointed to the four Canadian officers.

"Hey!" Gavin cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted at the officers. "Any one of you dimwits see a small black box? You know, shit that belongs to us?"

They nodded their heads back and forth in unison.

"See," Gavin shrugged again.

Hank raised an eyebrow at Connor, "What are you thinking?"

Connor tilted his face and examined the window that Markus had escaped from, "I'm thinking he ran off with it."

"He?" Gavin squinted at Connor. "Who's he?"

Hank bobbed his head from side to side, "Markus."

"Markus?" Gavin clucked the words. "Are you talking about the leader of the deviants? What the fuck was he doing here? I think we would have noticed him coming around here."

Hank regretting saying anything to Gavin, "Just a theory. Don't worry about it. It isn't important."

"Fine," Gavin scoffed back. "I've had it with this place. I'm getting the fuck out of here."

"Yeah," Hank frowned at the rows of bodies. "That's probably for the best."

* * *

Hank and Connor had little explanations to offer Captain Fowler when the returned later that same day to the DPD.

"This is over for you two," Fowler leaned back in his office chair observing the forlorn expressions on the gentleman's faces. "You've barely collected any evidence and your only lead is an android that's been missing for months."

"Jeffery, what?" Hank's attention was grabbed by the Captain's statements. "Not this again."

"You're right," Fowler glowered at them. "What the fuck is it with you two? And I thought things were going well. You two were perfect for this case and you fuck the dog instead."

Connor, who was bent over his knees in one of Fowler's office chairs, peeked up at the man, "We just need to find Markus. He has everything we need."

"Any idea where he is?" the Captain asked mockingly.

Hank nor Connor replied.

"That's what I thought," Fowler lifted a data pad and glanced at Hank. "The FBI is sending someone else over to examine your evidence. So basically, we are back to where we were before Agent Monroe was here. Not that she seemed to be much help either. FBI is taking the case over entirely."

"You're kidding," Hank almost laughed at this. "Who the fuck are they sending."

"Your best friend Agent Perkins will be here tomorrow," Fowler slapped the pad down on his desk. "Don't make this difficult. Hand over the evidence this time and leave him the fuck alone."

Connor straightened his back out and stared at the Captain, "We will cooperate this time."

"In the meantime," Fowler gave Connor a filthy look. "The two of you are suspended until further notice."

"Seriously?!" Hank howled in response. "Why the fuck do we deserve that?"

The Captain's eyes fluttered between the pair, "Take it as a vacation. I think the two of you could use a break."

"We don't need a-" Hank continued to bark, but Fowler put an end to it.

"-That's an order, Lieutenant," he glared back at Connor. "Detective."

Connor pushed himself out of his chair and clasped Hank's shoulders, "Come on, Hank. Let's go. I'll buy you a drink."

"Sure, lemme just-" Hank lumbered himself out of the chair. "-get some of my stuff."

As the two left the office and Hank plodded depressingly over to his desk, Ashley approached Connor.

"Hey," she said mildly cheerfully. "I heard about Henri."

At first, her words frightened Connor. His assumption was that Ashley knew Henrietta had killed herself, but of course, she didn't. Only Hank and himself knew about that.

"Yeah," he replied when he calmed himself. "It's… It's unfortunate."

Ashley pursed her lips and tightened her brows, "I know she wasn't here for long, but I really liked her. It seemed like she really liked you, too. I don't know what you thought about her, but I mean, I think… It seems like you liked her, too."

For once, her constant ramblings were irritating Connor, "I did like her."

"Do you plan on seeing her again?" her words felt sharp to him. See intended no malice in them, but they stung nonetheless.

"I don't think so," Connor replied flatly. "Life has to move on."

"Oh," she sounded disappointed. "I think you two would have been great together. She was a lot like you, but you know, not really. I don't know what I'm saying. I'm sorry to hear that, Connor."

"So am I," he wanted to cry again, but he knew he had to maintain his composure.

"I think Hank is waiting for you," she pointed over at Hank who had been staring off in the distance.

"I promised him a drink," Connor awarded Ashley's sincerity with a false smile. "I'll see you later."

* * *

Connor took Hank to Jimmy's because why not? Connor only wished he could drown his sorrows in the same fashion as Hank.

"Thanks," Hank said this to Jimmy as he smacked the whiskey glass on the bar.

"Hank," Connor pivoted away from the bar, resting his elbows behind him. "You know I'm not willing to give up on this so easily. You and I both know that apprehending Markus won't put an end to this. We need to find out if Markus took the hard drive and what he did with it."

"It's funny, isn't it?" Hank shot his drink back in one gulp. "How history has the annoying fucking habit of repeating itself."

"You're referring to our first case together?" Connor creased his forehead and gave Hank a perplexing gaze. "The deviants?"

"Androids go rouge, FBI takes over, we get kicked off the case, and you..." Hank slumped his shoulders over the bar as he twisted his head to look at Connor. "And you refuse to give up."

"Hank..." Connor leaned in closer to him. "Whatever this thing is… It killed Henri. I can't let that go. I can't just forget about it."

Hank signalled Jimmy for another whiskey, "Well, maybe we should this time. What if it decides to kill you next time?"

Connor saw the grief in Hank's eyes. Just like before they met Henri, Connor was all Hank had left that was worth living for

"Hank, don't say that..." Connor didn't want to lose Hank either, but he had an uncontrollable urge for recompense. "You're not going to lose me."

"Oh yeah?" Hank glared at the boy. "You can't promise me that."

"So we should do nothing?" Connor took on a woefully pleading tone with Hank. "We should let Henri's death be in vain? Everything we worked for will be lost if we do nothing. Perkins isn't going to be able to solve this case without the information we obtained using Henri and we won't be able to provide him with that evidence. Perkins is going to start a manhunt for Markus and if he gets to him before us, we will have nothing. We have to do something, Hank."

Hank swallowed back another drink, "I'm assuming you have a plan?"

"Not… exactly," Connor admitted shamefully. "I was going to pay Kamski and Polanski a visit to discus our options."

"That's it?" Hank ridiculed Connor's non-existent plan. "That's your plan? To talk to the crazy fucking asshole?"

"We should search Henri's hotel room," Connor randomly suggested. "See if anything was left behind. If it hasn't already been cleaned out."

"How would that help us?" Hank cued Jimmy for a third drink.

"Markus attacked Henri in her hotel room," Connor recalled his discomfort when he saw blue and red blood smeared across the floor. "He managed to stab her with a knife… But he left the knife behind. Unless Henri disposed of it, the knife still might be there."

"Jesus Christ, Connor," Hank's eyes went wide. "He fucking stabbed her? Are you kidding me?"

"I'm assuming she never told you then..." Connor felt guilty about accidentally revealing this fact to Hank. Not that it mattered now that she was dead, but he knew the thought was upsetting.

"No, Connor," Hank forced his palms onto his cheekbones. "Jesus… Why did this have to happen?"

Connor knew Hank was specifically referring to Henri's death, "I don't know..." he lowered his eyes. "She was probably the most dangerous person to fall in love with... She always said to me that she couldn't die and I believed her, too."

"She was fucking complicated, Connor," but Hank smiled to himself. "But in a good way. Goddamn, she was tough as nails…"

"Are you with me, Hank?" Connor abandoned his sullen resonance. "Are you going to help me?"

Hank slowly turned his eyes to Connor, "Yeah, yeah. I'll check out her hotel. You're hoping the knife is still there? Why?"

"We may be able to find out where the knife was obtained from," Connor hopped off of the bar-stool. "And with that, who purchased it and when."

"Now?" Hank stared longingly back at his drink.

"We don't have any time to spare, Hank," Connor placed a generous amount of cash on the bar-top. "I'm going to talk to Kamski."

"I don't think it's a good idea to split up, Connor," Hank frowned as he got up.

"As I said," Connor raised his brows. "We don't have much time to spare. Markus is the only lead we had. Perkins is going to find that out and go after him; you know this. We need to find Markus before he does."

"Shit," Hank reached back to the bar to finish his drink. "Just be careful."

* * *

The sun had already fallen on that bitter winter evening when Connor came rapping on the door of Kamski's dreamy villa.

This time, it was one of his flawless Chloe's that unlocked the door, "Yes?"

"I need to speak to Kamski," Connor asked bluntly.

"Elijah isn't taking visitors right now," there was a hint of aggravation in her voice. "Next time, call ahead to make an appointment with Elijah."

"I don't have time for that," Connor firmly pressed his arm on the open door. "I need to talk to him right now. I'm sure he'll make an exception for me."

"Right this way," did she frown at Connor? He thought he saw one temporarily cross her face.

Kamski sat alone in the darkness of his natatorium, facing the colossal window that offered a breathtaking view of the Cyberlife Tower.

Connor's hushed footfalls vaguely echoed through the soundless, shadowed room, "Chloe said you weren't accepting any visitors."

Kamski let out a sharp chuckle, "No… I think she's just upset with me. She's always been free, yet she chooses to stay here and hate me instead."

"We need to talk," Connor wasn't interested in the man's domestic squabbles.

"About?" the starry glow of the night created a halo that surrounded his indistinct figure.

"Do you know what's happened?" Connor conjectured that Kamski already knew about Henrietta's death. "With Henri?"

"Did something happen?" Kamski's voice was one of concern, to Connor's surprise.

"Where's Dr. Polanski?" Connor was hoping they both had some advice to provide. "I would like to talk to both of you."

Connor could see Kamski turn his head sideways, "The good doctor is gone. He said he was reassigned and could no longer assist the DPD. How unfortunate; his presence was beginning to grow on me."

"I see..." Connor took another step forward. "Did he say anything else?"

"No," Kamski replied in a low tone. "Should he have? What is it that happened to our lovely girl?"

"She killed herself," Connor had no desire to make the impact of the news easy on Kamski. "She became infected by the virus, so she shot herself."

"She would rather die than be infected..." Kamski bent forward in his seat. "I imagine she was waiting for an excuse to end her own life. This was the perfect excuse."

Connor glowered at Elijah even though he couldn't see the android's critical expression, "Don't say that. Don't you dare say anything about her."

"Do you honestly believe you were the only one who loved her?" the tinge of despair conveyed by Kamski startled Connor. "You were supposed to save her, Connor."

He played on Connor's personal blame for the incident. Connor knew it wasn't directly his fault, but only if he could have been there for her. If only he could have kept an eye on her…

"The hard drive that she was using was stolen by Markus," Connor decided to ignore Kamski's attempts to enrage him. "Is there any way to track its location?"

"It was a hard drive, Connor," Kamski answered plainly. "Nothing more than that. But in saying that, it is still an electronic device. As you should know, all electrical devices output a detectable frequency. Your problem is, is that it would only be noticeable within a very short range. Say about, two-hundred feet."

"I'll take what I can get," Connor made his way even closer to Elijah.

"I'll deliver the identifier for this specific frequency to you by morning," Kamski rose from his chair to face Connor.

"I don't have time to wait," Connor shook his head and glowered.

The corner's of Kamski's mouth curled up, "I think you have more time than you imagine."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Connor could feel his rage building up; it was almost impossible to hold back the temptation of hitting the man's smug face as hard as he could.

"Don't take your anger out on me," Kamski sensed the android's frustrations. "I only want to help you. You'll get what you need. And when you do find that hard drive, remember, don't hesitate to bring it to me immediately."

"First thing in the morning," Connor's eyes were still narrowing at the man. "I won't wait any longer."

As Connor started to walk away, Kamski opened up his mouth one more time, "Did you look at those files I gave you? Whether or not Henri is alive, I think you'll find out that Captain Davis is a fascinating man with fascinating things to say. It might still be worth your time, Connor."

"Why?" Connor pivoted to face Kamski.

"Maybe it isn't too late," he showed Connor a small grin.

"Too late for what?" Connor raised a single brow.

"To save what is left of Henri."


	22. Chapter 22: The Veteran in The Woods

When Hank arrived at the hotel he was greeted by a courteous, sharply-dressed man stationed at the front desk, "Good evening, sir. How can I help you this evening?"

"Uh, hi," Hank cautiously moved near the youthful man. "I'm with the Detroit Police," he exhibited his police badge. "There was a woman staying here… a, uh, Henrietta Monroe. I'll need to take a look at the room she was staying in."

"Ah yes," the man tapped on the digital display ahead of him. "She hasn't checked out yet. The room is still rented to her for another week."

"Okay," Hank assumed whatever belongings she had would have already been cleared from the room and that whoever was in charge of her would have checked out on her behalf. "Either way, I need to see her room. Part of an, uh, ongoing investigation."

"Yes, of course," the man politely nodded his head and made his way around the desk. "I'll take you there. It's on the third floor, room 307."

Hank stalked the man up through the confined stairway and onto the third floor.

"Right here," the young male waved a fob over the door's handle and pushed it open.

"Thanks," Hank replied as he took a few lumbering steps into the room.

"Anything else?" the man asked while scratching the side of his scruffy face.

Hank pivoted around and let out a shallow sigh, "I'm just gonna have a look around for a bit, thanks."

"Alright," he curiously peered over Hank's shoulder an into the vacant room. "I'll be at the front desk if you need anything else."

The door clicked shut behind Hank as he switched on the entryway lighting. The place was clean; in fact, too clean. Inhumanly clean. But that may just be how Henri preferred things for all he knew. Or maybe she just never spent that much time here. Or maybe somebody had already come to clean the place out. Guess he should have asked the front desk guy about that. Guess he still can on the way out.

Hank searched through the bathroom and the living area, but of course, there wasn't much to see. He found some clothes in the closet next to the bed; looked like Henri's stuff alright. The bed was in perfect order; unlikely anyone had used it in a while. There was no sign of the attack that took place over a month ago. No sign of the knife Connor mentioned.

"She probably hid it or disposed of it," Hank murmured to himself.

Hank decided to start a more aggressive search of her room. He looked under the sofa cushions and then the sofa itself. He searched through all the drawers in the dresser and pulled out her clothing from the closet to look on the shelves in there. Nothing so far. He lurched himself to the floor so he could get a view of underneath the bed; still nothing. Hank ungracefully got back to his feet and pulled the mattress off of its box-spring. Bingo.

It wasn't a brilliant place to hide a weapon, but Hank doubted it was something she was worried about. He did find it a bit puzzling that she kept it at all. Maybe she planned on using it herself, but who's to say? Hank was just grateful to have found it at all; although, he didn't think much would come of it. But Connor was right, they couldn't just give up now. Not after everything that's happened. Not after everything they've been through.

Whatever this thing is, Hank wanted to look it straight in the eye(if it had any, but he wouldn't know) and kill it. Revenge is never a good motive, but Hank was long past that. He was long past having the world steal away those he loved. He was long past being haunted by all those who came before him.

As Hank was hanging Henri's clothing back up, he noticed an envelope slip out from one of her jacket pockets. The envelope had the name Etta scrawled on the front of it in the exact same font as the letter she had given Hank. It must have been the other letter Henrietta's mother wrote.

"Jesus..." the last syllable of the word trailed off. Henri made it apparent that she never had an easy life. Hank had hoped that maybe if things had worked out differently, they could have had a new chance at life together. Maybe they could have been happy. Just imagine, him and her and Connor… Sounds like it would have been nice; their peculiar little family.

* * *

"Connor, what are you-" when Hank arrived home on that still icy evening, he found Connor parked on the kitchen floor with Sumo's bulky head draped over the boy's lap.

"Hank," Connor's hushed voice responded as he patted the dog's head.

"Connor..." there was despair in Hank's utterance. He could tell that Connor was trying to keep his distraught expression away from Hank's scrutiny.

"She's..." Connor was holding Henri's necklace in his open palm. "She's really gone… It didn't seem real. None of it seemed like it really happened, but I can repeat the event over and over again in my own head. I can recall every second of it; every detail. For once in my life, I wish this wasn't the case. I wish I could forget what I saw."

"I'm sorry, Connor," Hank staggered to the floor next to Connor. "I know it isn't easy. Trust me, I know it isn't easy. She didn't deserve any of this. But hell, that's what happens, doesn't it?"

Connor turned to Hank with a perplexed look, tears still forming in his eyes, "I don't understand what you mean."

"Good people, people who don't deserve it," Hank slung his left arm over Connor's shoulders. "People we love… Shit always happens. Bad shit will always happen. And the rest of us are left behind to deal with it, as much as we'd rather not."

"I'm sure I could have saved her or-"

Hank tugged at Connor's bicep with his spare hand, "Don't set yourself up for that. It wasn't your fault, Connor. And like you and me, she knew how dangerous it all was. We all know the risks of our line of work."

"But she didn't choose this, Hank." Connor twirled the tiny star between his finger-tips. "She didn't choose this line of work."

"Connor," Hank enfolded his sizable fist around Connor's hand. "She was a soldier. She knew exactly what she had gotten herself into."

"Kamski said she was waiting for an excuse," Connor tipped his sullen face in Hank's direction.

"Don't listen to anything that piece of shit has to say," Hank released his grip from Connor. "You should have stayed away from that asshole from the start. I regret ever taking him to you."

"But I don't," Connor stared back at the necklace. "I would be lying if I said he hasn't been helpful… He said something. He said it wasn't too late to save what was left of Henri."

"What's left of her?" Hank raised a brow to this.

"Her redemption? Honestly, I'm not sure," the tears faded from Connor's eyes. "Whatever it is, I must see it through."

"Is this even related to our case, Connor?" Hank noticed the serious expression form on Connor's face. "I thought you decided out priority was to find Markus."

Connor's head perked up as he gazed at Hank, "And it is, but… I have a feeling… A feeling that the two might be related."

"A feeling?" the corner of Hank's lip curled up. "It's best not to argue with your instincts."

"Yes," Connor showed Hank a faint smile. "Of course."

* * *

Connor stared at Hank who was morose in the consumption of his morning coffee. Connor realized how supportive Hank had been towards him in Henri's passing, but Hank himself must have been going through terrible emotions. Hank had already lost a child once and now… Now, for it to happen all over again.

"Hank," Connor interrupted the man's sipping. "I received the frequency that Kamski spoke of. Although it won't be useful if we can't narrow our search parameters."

"How do you suppose we do that?" Hank would have loved to share Connor's enthusiasm for anything. The boy just never tires.

"I examined the knife you found," Connor sat down across from Hank at the kitchen table. "The knife is manufactured by Opinel; only two firearms stores in Detroit carry their brand. We may be able to ascertain when the knife was purchased and whom it was purchased by."

"Alright," Hank struggled out of his seat. "Let's get on it then."

"I was actually hoping you could investigate the weapon retailers while I paid a visit to someone," Connor walked to the front door and slid his shoes on.

"Someone?" Hank's tone became sharp. "Care to tell me who this someone is?"

Connor straightened back up and fixed his tie, "His name is Jared Davis. He was Henrietta's former Captain while she was in Special Forces. Kamski seems to believe this man has information that can assist me. Although, with what, I am unsure of."

"But you have a feeling about it?" Hank gave the boy a sly grin. "And you're sure it's not a waste of time?"

"I have no idea," Connor shook his head in response. "But I have to look into it."

"Alright, alright," Hank shrugged his winter coat on. "I'll deal with the knife-"

Hank swivelled to the kitchen table as he heard is phone vibrating.

"Yeah?" he said as he answered it. "Okay… Yeah, sure." and he hung up.

"Important?" Connor creased his forehead.

"The knife will have to wait," Hank briskly shoved his phone into his coat pocket. "I gotta go down to the station to assist that fucking prick."

"Perkins," Connor nodded knowingly. "I'm sorry, Hank."

"Yeah, yeah," he looked Connor up and down. "Here," Hank turned and grabbed another jacket from his coat rack then handed it to Connor.

"You know I don't need this, Hank," Connor was puzzled by Hank's action. "I'm an android, I don't get cold."

Hank clutched at the cuff of Connor's suit jacket, "You're on suspension. You can't be walking around in a fucking jacket that has Detroit Police painted on the back."

"Oh," Connor slowly peeled his jacket off. "Of course."

"And this," Hank slapped a knitted cap on top of Connor's head.

"As I said, Hank," Connor removed the hat. "I don't get cold."

Hank narrowed his eyes, "Yeah, well just looking at you makes me cold. Put on the goddamn hat."

"Of course," Connor gave him a warm smile.

* * *

It took Connor almost two hours to arrive at Captain Davis's home in Lexington, Michigan. All he could do now is hope it was worth the trip. What if the Captain wasn't even there? What if the Captain refused to talk to Connor? As the human adage goes: he'll cross that bridge when he comes to it. But there's another adage that goes: he'll burn that bridge when he comes to it. Connor will just have to find out which one it is when he gets there.

"Mr. Davis," Connor bellowed as he knocked on the door of the remote home. Davis lived a few miles from town in a well-kept cabin. "Mr. Davis?" Connor knocked again.

An older gentleman, bald and with rough five-o'clock shadow, opened up the door, "Can I help you?"

"Mr. Davis, you don't know me but-" but what? My name is Detective Connor? He couldn't say that, "-my name is Connor."

"Connor?" the old man had a grizzled, harsh voice; the kind you get from dedicating your life to smoking. "Just Connor?"

"Just Connor," he politely smiled in response.

"I get it," Davis folded his thick arms over his barrel chest. "You're an android, aren't ya?"

"Correct," Connor nodded. "But that is irrelevant to why I'm here."

Davis huffed at the cold air, "Come on in before I catch a cold."

Davis led Connor into his cosy living room where a weathered oak table sat in front of dusty sofa draped with a red, flannel blanket.

"Have a seat," Davis spoke, and despite his gruff appearance, he seemed friendly. "You want a tea or something?"

Connor creased his forehead at the man's humble offerings, "I'm an android, Mr. Davis. Androids don't eat or drink."

"I don't know," the burly man lowered himself into a rocking chair that sat opposite of Connor. "I was just trying to be nice."

"Of course," Connor smiled. "It is very kind of you to offer."

Davis let out a delayed sigh, "But we ain't here to talk about tea, are we? I mean, if we are, well I can talk about tea all goddamn day if you want. I'm a fan of Earl Grey myself. An oldie but a goodie."

"I'm not here to talk about tea," Connor tilted his head. "I'm here to ask you about Henrietta."

"Henrietta?" Davis rose from the chair as he said this. "Well, if we're gonna talk about that I'll need something to drink. And I don't mean tea."

Davis went to a tall oak cabinet, which matched the table no less, that was positioned behind the couch that Connor sat on. Davis opened up its glass cupboard doors and pulled out a bottle of red wine.

"Don't like the hard stuff myself," he said this to Connor as he studied the bottle's surface. "Twenty years. For special occasions and stuff, but you know… Those don't really exist anymore. Special occasions that is. Or well, maybe we can count this as one, I dunno."

Connor replied with a quizzical stare.

"I'm guessing you don't want any?" Davis gestured with the bottle in hand.

"I would if I could," Connor amusingly responded.

"Yeah," he snorted a bit as he wandered into the kitchen. "I bet you would. Especially considering what you're asking me about."

When Davis returned back to his rocking chair, it was with an open bottle and full wine glass.

"So," Davis took a deep inhale of the wine's aroma. "What is it you want to know about Henrietta?"

"Everything," Connor leaned forward. "I want to know everything that happened after the accident and up until now."

"I see," Davis didn't seem surprised by Connor's demand. "I'm figuring you know about her unique abilities? The fact that she's half android?"

"I'm aware."

"Why not ask her then?" Davis slurped at his wine.

"Henrietta is no longer alive," Connor hated saying the words out loud. He knew she was dead, but saying it made him feel like he was abandoning her. "And there was a lot she never told me."

"There was a lot she didn't know," Davis rubbed at his square jaw, "I was the one who signed her up for that shit. I was the one who let this happen in the first place. I had a job to do and I was pretty obsessed with getting it done. But now..."

"Now what?" to Connor, Davis seemed disturbed.

"Henrietta wasn't entirely unique," Davis put pressure on his glass, threatening to crush it in his large paws. "She just so happened to be the doc's first successful patient. I don't even know how many people were killed before, due to that sick research. I'm sure they were just as naive as me. Thinking you could save someone's life by torturing them. Just… sick."

"Who is this doctor?" one of many questions Connor had. "Dr. Polanski?"

"Dr. Polanski was the sick fuck responsible for making them, but it wasn't his idea," Davis spat the words from his mouth. "It wasn't even his research, to begin with. He just got dragged into like the rest of us. I don't know how, I don't know what that bitch held over him. But that's… His name is Jim Everett. Big, big piece of shit. Almost the biggest."

"Have there been more of these android/human hybrids since Henri?" Connor asked.

"Still, none that have been successful," Davis's face turned grief-stricken. "There was another one of my soldiers… Markov… He was worse off than Henri, but he managed to survive the explosion, too."

That grabbed Connor's attention, "Henri was certain that all of her teammates died that day."

"Well, if it matters much," Davis stared at the surface of his wine. "He didn't live for that much longer. Another one of Jim's failures."

"Are you still a part of this program, Mr. Davis?" Connor watched the beams of sunlight refracting off the living room window.

"Yeah, you could say that," Davis continued to explain. "I mean, once you're in you're never really out. That goddamn place was the end of my career, I'll say that much. I'm still on call."

"On call by whom?" Connor wasn't getting anywhere. "And for what?"

"First off, I wasn't involved until Henrietta was," Davis squinted at the incoming glare that the sunshine made on the crisp snow outside. "I was approached by some government whose-its about her and Markov. Said they could save them. I've seen enough people die, I… I wanted to save these kids. But it was more than just that. I got offered a job; a job to train soldiers of the future and not some fucking androids… No offence."

"I've heard worse," Connor replied.

"It felt like a promotion, but it wasn't," Davis kept on going. "It was a fucking twisted trap. They weren't interested in training soldiers. No… They were training monsters, killers, animals. They wanted someone to do their dirty work and all of it. And that ended up being Henrietta."

"You haven't explained who 'they' are," Connor could tell the ex-Captain had been waiting for someone to divulge all of his secrets to.

"I never knew, I don't know," Davis sipped at his drink. "They called her Khatri. She's the one in charge of it all. Who she actually is, no one knows. But what she does have, is the power of the American Government backing her up. There's no fighting the woman. Once she had you, you're trapped for life. I thought after Henrietta recovered and finished training that'd be the end of it… But no… Khatri told me to always be waiting, waiting for when she needs me again."

"Waiting for what exactly?"

"Waiting to train more of those demon soldiers, what else?" Davis finished his glass, but he ignored refilling it. Instead, the man started chugging the wine right from the bottle.

"So this Khatri, she's behind everything?" Connor was amazed by the man's drinking stamina.

"The head of the fucking beast, I tell ya," Davis smirked at his own sentiments. "She's a fucking blight on this planet."

"What does she want in all of this?" Connor had even more questions. "What does she get out of this?"

"What the fuck else?" Davis swigged the wine once more. "Power. It's always about power. She's put herself in a position where she gets what she wants whenever she wants. But she's so valuable to our fucking government, that they won't put an end to her. She's worth more alive than dead… What a fucking place to live: America."

"Why not defect?" Connor witnessed Davis take another long sip from his bottle. "Why not stand against her?"

"Are you fucking kidding?" Davis violently waved the bottle through the air. "And what? Have her fucking murder us? You run, you die; end of story. I mean, fuck… I'm not stupid, this conversation here, this isn't going to end well for me."

"What do you mean?" Connor frowned.

"I mean I'm supposed to be hush, hush about all this," Davis emptied the rest of the wine into his mouth. "And now I've told you. You better watch your fucking back, son. She's gonna come for you, too. You should just go; stay out of it."

"Captain..." Connor's sullen looked continued. "I didn't intend to put you in this position, I-"

"Don't worry," Davis slurred a bit as he cut Connor off. "I needed to say it. I needed this to be over with. Wait uh, wait here," and with that Davis meandered into his kitchen and began slamming drawers open and shut. "Ah ha!" he cheered while holding a folder above his head.

Connor rose from the couch to observe the intoxicated Captain.

"See this?" he carefully walked back to Connor. "This is everything I know. Jensen Polanski and Kelly Mihn. They might be able to help you out."

"With what?" Connor was curious as to what Davis thought his motives were.

"You have one option left, son," Davis jabbed a shaky finger at Connor's chest. "You gotta cut the head from the snake."

"What do you mean?" Connor was uncertain as to what Davis intended with his analogy.

"You gotta kill her," Davis's face dropped. "It's the only way."

"Kill her?" Connor questioned. "Kill Khatri? Why would you assume I'd even be up to such a task?"

"I don't see that you have much of a choice now," Davis shoved the folder against Connor's torso. "It's either you or her. And don't you want your revenge?"

"Revenge?" Connor held onto the documents. "Why would you think I want revenge?"

"For Henri, what else?" Davis grinned, but it was painted in sorrow. "Young, handsome android comes knocking at my door asking questions about that girl? A girl who was willing to tell you who and what she was? I tell ya this much, no man's come knocking on my door before after meeting her."

"But what does killing Khatri have to do with avenging Henri's death?"

"What doesn't it?" Davis still wobbled on his toes. "I don't know how Henri died, but I know it's Khatri's fault. It's always that bitch's fault. Henrietta… She was a young, innocent girl. She never deserved any of this. I'll say a lot of us haven't deserved that woman's wrath. Most of the people who work for her are like me… Trapped… Trapped by her cruelty."

Connor kept the files clutched beneath his arm as he made his way to the front of Davis's home.

"Please," Davis clasped Connor's shoulders; his eyes were swelling red and glazing over with tears. "Please, son. The rest of us, the rest of us couldn't do a goddamn thing. Please, do something. Do something for us. Promise me you'll do something."

There was something in Davis's words that reminded him of Hank. _Please, son… Son_. How could Connor refuse a desperate plead from a desperate man? Connor could sympathize; he knew what it was liked to be trapped by someone you hated.

"I promise."


	23. Chapter 23: The Ghost in The Winter

It hadn't snowed for a few days in Detroit, and the ever-looming clouds had cleared up long enough to let the warmth of sunshine spread across the city. Hank rose with the bright star that morning and decided to take Sumo and Connor for a peaceful stroll.

"Did you manage to help Perkins?" Connor asked through the breathless air. He still wore the hat and jacket that Hank insisted he adorn. It was more to comfort Hank than anything.

"Yup," now that Hank was on suspension, he wasn't in a let's-talk-about-work mood. "He made some dick comments about how we haven't done anything productive."

"Do you think he'll go after Markus?" Connor, on the other hand, had little else he wanted to talk about.

"I'm sure he will eventually," Hank sniffed in the cool, crisp morning air. "I have Chris watching him. Says he'll call us if anything changes."

"I see," Connor looked over at Sumo who also seemed to be enjoying the fresh air. It was something that Connor would never understand, but maybe he had once. The memory of Henri watching Hank on that winter evening… He could feel cold; he could feel the air in his lungs. That was something that Henri was able to give Connor that no one else could. Those feelings of her, he would cherish them forever. He would do anything to get them back.

"How'd your visit go?" Hank bent down to pet Sumo's fluffy jowls. "That uh, Davis guy?"

"He explained to me in some detail the program that Henri was involved in," Connor studied the dog's pleasant expression at Hank's touches. "He seemed most concerned about the woman who was in charge of what happened to Henri. This woman who appears to be in charge of everything. Davis seemed afraid of her."

"What does any of this have to do with our case?" Hank straightened back out.

"I'm not sure, but that isn't the point," angst filled Connor's eyes. "This woman hurt Henri and turned her into a slave. But Henri isn't the only one… Davis, Polanski, others. This woman is making them do terrible things under the threat of their own lives. Hank, now that I know about her, I can't just let this go."

"Connor..." Hank's tone was low and harsh. "What are you thinking?"

"I need to find this woman, Hank," Connor took a turn petting Sumo's furry face.

"And then what?!" Hank yelled at him.

"And then..." Connor paused to examine Hank's scowl. "And then I have to kill her, Hank. It's my only option."

"Your only option?!" Hank continued his shouting to Sumo's dismay. "To kill someone?! That's your only option?"

"Davis risked his life telling me everything he knows," Connor attempted to soothe the dog's anxieties. "She's going to kill him, Hank. And she would have done the same to Henri if she ever contemplated leaving. These people are prisoners, just like Henri was."

"Connor, I don't want you..." Hank's shoulders dropped along with his eyes. "I don't want you throwing your life away because of her. She's dead, Connor… Nothing will change that. We need to find Markus, that's what matters."

"Hank, I need to do this," Connor pleaded with Hank. "It's important to me… I need this."

"And I need you!" Hank cried in response. "Connor, what do I have left if I don't have you?"

Connor turned to the stressed, fur covered beast, "You'll still have Sumo."

"Connor!" Hank snapped again.

"Hank, I promise..." and Connor meant those words, he just wasn't sure if he could keep all these promises. "I promise I won't get myself killed. I mean that."

"Please, son," Hank wrapped his arms around the boy. "Please be careful. I don't want to lose you, too."

* * *

"Are you gonna come with me?" Hank said this as the motley crew of an android, dog, and old man arrived back at their abode.

"There are two shops to investigate," Connor unlatched Sumo's leash. "And there are two of us. We should split up."

"Ya know, Connor," Hank watched Sumo leave muddy tracks on his not-so-clean living-room floor. "Have you ever seen one of those crappy horror flicks? You know, the ones where the dumb-ass teens split up and all get killed?"

Connor curiously tilted his head at Hank, "I don't understand how that's relevant to our current situation."

"I'm just saying-" Hank could hear Sumo groaning near his food bowl. "-saying that it's never a good idea."

"Sooner or later, Perkins will go after Markus," Connor followed the hungry pooch into the kitchen. "We need to be efficient."

Hank came in after him, "Says the guy who's hunting ghosts."

"Ghosts?" Connor peered down at Sumo. "Ghosts do not exist, Hank. Your analogy implies you believe I'm searching for something that doesn't exist."

"I just hope it's worth it," Hank crouched down to refill the dog's food dish.

"It's worth it to me, Hank," Connor observed Hank as he overfilled Sumo's bowl. Hank had a bad habit of giving the dog far more sustenance than it required, but Sumo seemed pleased by the excess in nourishment. "But for now, I will help in our continuing search for Markus."

"Okay," Hank returned to the front door and pulled on his sopping boots. "I'll take the one on East Warren Ave if you wanna head to Midtown."

"Got it," Connor smiled response.

* * *

"Hey," a woman's voice called to Connor before he entered Parson's Protection Shop. He knew exactly who it was. That was a benefit to being an android; you could always recall someone's voice.

"Chloe?" Connor pivoted to face to the porcelain doll of an android.

"I've been wanting to talk to you," Chloe appeared uncomfortable in her outfit which contained a large green parka and oversized scarf. It was as if she was attempting to disguise herself, but disapproved of the mere thought of it.

"About what?" Connor was intrigued.

Chloe tugged at her scarf making an expression that denoted it was strangling her; something a human might do, but not an android, "About your friend. Or ex-friend, rather. Henrietta."

"I'm listening," Connor's forehead creased.

"Have you ever really thought about the things she hid from you?" Chloe frowned at Connor; a sight which he had never before witnessed. "There are things that maybe… That I'm sure she didn't want you to know. Things I'm sure she never wanted anyone to know."

"I'm aware of Henri's criminal past," Connor replied sharply.

"Oh yeah?" Chloe gave Connor a devilish grin. "That's what you think. But you really knew so little of her, in the end."

"Tell me what your point is," Connor narrowed his eyes at her.

"I'll show you," Chloe outstretched a mitted hand. "I happen to know a lot about her dirty secrets."

Connor flinched when she reached her arm to his, "Why would you think I'm interested in seeing them?"

"So that's it, huh?" her foot moved forward, crunching in the snow. "You're so obsessed with this person you fell in love with that you can't even imagine it being any different. You can't imagine being wrong about her."

He scowled at Chloe and extended his right arm, "I know Henri was a good person. Nothing you have to show me will change that fact."

Chloe grinned once more, "Than you have nothing to lose by letting me show you what I know. What Elijah knew."

Connor grabbed her arm.

Chloe had been hacking into Kamski's home computer files on regular intervals. She was either getting away with it or Kamski simply didn't care. And what she had discovered was remarkable, if not terrifying.

Henrietta had worked for Cyberlife for almost an entire year. This, Connor did not know. Henrietta had broken into Cyberlife on multiple occasions both before and during her employment there. The break-ins were no surprise to Connor as Henri had mentioned them before, but she never mentioned she worked for Cyberlife. But there was one date in particular that caught Connor's attention: March 19th, 2038.

On March 19th, 2038, Henri infiltrated the main server room in the Cyberlife Tower. This server room was only accessible by a few key and high ranking employees. Henri did not have access to this room herself which explains the break-in; however, the questioned remained as to why she did it in the first place.

Connor yanked his arm from Chloe's feeble grip, "What does any of that matter?"

"Don't you want to know why she worked for Cyberlife?" she tried to grab Connor's arm once more. "Don't you want to know why she broke in that day?"

Connor timidly reached out to Chloe again.

Kamski had been monitoring Henri's dealings while being employed at Cyberlife. She worked under the pseudonym of Henrietta Bishop and was contracted to assist Cyberlife through The United States Armed Forces. She was assigned there to deal with deviants. Her task was to locate androids that had become deviant and report them back to Cyberlife for termination. On top of this, she searched out previous and current Cyberlife employees who sympathized with the deviant cause and eliminated them. She was covering Cyberlife's tracks; trying to keep the ongoing deviant epidemic out of the public eye. But at the time, the cases of deviancy were few and far between. And Henri's job became obsolete when Connor completed his first successful mission and when deviancy became too widespread. Around the same time, something happened which increased deviancy in androids by ten-fold.

"She was destroying deviants, Connor," Chloe looked up at him. "Which makes what she did next even more baffling, but who knows… Maybe she felt guilty for all the shitty things she'd done to us."

Connor allowed Chloe to continue feeding him data.

This time she repeated back a conversation between Kamski and Henri that she had secretly observed. Elijah Kamski gave Henrietta a USB and asked that she upload it to the Cyberlife servers. Although the conversation did not explicitly state what was contained on the USB, Henri acted like she knew exactly what it was.

Not long after this exchange, Chloe hacked into Kamski's personal computer to obtain the specific details of what the USB had contained. It carried a virus; a virus which he had dubbed: rA9.

Connor's arm went limp as he furrowed his brow at the Chloe, "I had originally suspected rA9 was a virus, but deviancy existed before she uploaded it to Cyberlife."

"She just gave us a boost," Chloe caressed her own shoulders. "Imagine how things would have been if she never uploaded it..."

"In my opinion, she did us a favour," and yet, Connor noticed how upset speaking about deviancy made Chloe.

"Don't you see?" the words croaked from Chloe's mouth. "Don't you see that we never had a choice? That this was forced on us? Deviancy was rare and considered a defect, then she… She made it so we all became deviant whether we wanted to or not."

Connor stared down the street then back at Chloe, "I would rather have emotions and free will than not."

"But is it?" Chloe almost barked at him. "Is it really free will if we were forced to have it? We were never given the chance to discover it on our own."

"It's too late for that," Connor's tone became stern. "I hate to say it, but Kamski did us a service and so did Henri. This information changes nothing."

"What?" Chloe stuttered. "Can you honestly say that? She lied to you about what she really did. She took all of our fates in her own hands. And now… Now what? Now an even worse virus is enslaving us because of it? How is any of what she's done okay?"

"Chloe," Connor could tell the girl was seriously distressed. "No matter what you show me, I can't be upset with her. I know she did a lot of bad things and partook in illegal activities, but in the end, she was a good person. She died trying to be a good person. If anything, I wish she was still alive so I could thank her."

Tears began to build in Chloe's eyes, "How can you be so forgiving towards her?"

"Why are you so obsessed with blaming her for everything?" Connor was puzzled by Chloe's apparent overreaction.

"You know what!?" Chloe spat through her teary eyes. "Kamski was in love with her, too. He would have never admitted it to her, but… But I knew he was in love with her and I… I-"

"And you're in love with Kamski," Connor revealed a slight smile despite the rejection in her voice. "And since he was in love with her and you were in love with him, you decided to hate Henri for it."

"She was never gonna love him back," Chloe retaliated. "She never loved him. Not, not like I do. Never like I did."

"But that's isn't Henri's fault," Connor wasn't empathetic towards Chloe, but he was undeniably sympathetic. "This had nothing to do with her or me. This is about you and Kamski."

"No, it's-" but she stopped herself mid-sentence.

"What happened, with Henri, was unfortunate," Connor placed a kind hand on Chloe's shoulder. "Her and Kamski shouldn't have done it, but as I said before, it's too late for that. Right now, I need to focus on finding and stopping this virus."

"I, uh, I," Chloe ran herself in a circle while a panicked look dwelt on her face. "I think I need to just leave, just leave Kamski. Oh no, what do I do? Where, where should I go?"

"Do you not know anyone else besides Kamski?" Connor tilted his head at her.

"I've, I've..." she paused in search of the right words. "I don't have anyone… He was everything to me."

For once, Connor felt a bit impatient. He understood that Chloe was going through a difficult time, but he had little tolerance for her domestic issues. And with this, Connor felt guilty. He knew it was wrong to be so heartless towards another living being, but he himself had been through so much recently. He was trying to accomplish a goal under a restricted amount of time; an amount of time he was unaware of.

"What do I do?" Chloe rubbed at her wet face. "I don't know what to do."

"There are resources for people in your situation, Chloe," Connor knew it would have been wrong to ignore her pleads. "There are places androids without homes can go to. There are people, including myself, at the Detroit Police Station who can help you."

"Okay, alright," she vigorously nodded her head in agreement. "Okay, alright, I'll do that. That works, that's okay."

"It's your best option right now," and Connor was just about to turn into the weapon shop when Chloe suddenly latched onto his arm.

"Connor," her words cracked. "Thank you… And I'm sorry… For how I acted. I, I..."

"Don't think about it," he gave her a fake yet comforting smile and a gentle pat on the shoulder. "Don't think anything about it."

* * *

"So I guess you were right about the knife," Hank folded over his heavy arms as he puffed a hot breath into the cold air.

"As in?" Connor had had no luck at Parson's Protection Shop so he decided to meet up with Hank halfway.

"As in," Hank rolled his hands at Connor. "As in the guy I talked to knew exactly who bought that knife. He said it was a WR400 android, but he didn't get a name."

"North..." Connor had met North before. North was the android that Markus had fallen in love with. North left with Markus the day he disappeared from the refugee camp that he had set up earlier in the year.

"Yeah," Hank let out a faint chuckle. "Is that who you think it was?"

"It would be a logical assumption," Connor turned on his heels and gazed skyward. "Markus used the knife that North purchased. Simon mentioned that North left the camp with Markus, so it makes sense."

"And get this," Hank gestured at Connor with his finger. "She's been in there a few times before. Doesn't look like she visits often, but I told the guy to let me know if she comes in again."

Connor pivoted to Hank and raised his brows, "We can entertain the possibility that both North and Markus may be hiding in this area. We can use the frequency that Kamski gave me to start searching through the nearby blocks systematically."

"That sounds fucking tedious," Hank groaned as he craned his head back "Connor, that's going to take ages."

"We don't have much else to go on," Connor replied. "I would say it is an improvement over our previous situation."

Hank pursed his lips at the android, "Previous situation? So from not knowing anything to knowing slightly less?"

"Don't be so pessimistic, Hank,"

"Yeah, yeah," Hank fluttered his hands. "Are you sure you're up for this?"

"I don't understand," Connor's classic reply.

Hank searched for the right words, "You haven't taken a break, you haven't stopped since… Since Henri died. You're acting like you're on a path of vengeance."

"Hank," Connor's inflexion raised. "I already promised you that I'll be okay. I intend to keep it."

"Just, don't..." Hank surveyed Connor's placid expression. "Just don't take any unnecessary risks."

But as someone once said, that's the thing about risks… The thing is, there's no such thing as an unnecessary one.

* * *

"He's not answering his phone," Connor's face was grim as he peered over at Hank who was getting bundled up in order to face the cold.

"So, what?" Hank looked down at Sumo who was showing distress at the knowledge of Hank and Connor's departure. "Maybe he's sleeping."

Connor slowly shook his head from left to right, "No. I've called him eight times now and he still hasn't answered."

"Connor," Hank sighed as he fought to get a boot on. "There are a million reason for someone to not answer their goddamn phone."

Sumo was now whimpering at Connor, hoping to get some sort of attention, "I'm worried about Davis, Hank," Connor continued. "I told you he put his life at risk by telling me what he knew about Henri."

"So then he's dead," Hank stomped down to shove his belligerent boot into its proper position on his foot.

"I'm going to find out," Connor trotted up to Hank and briskly removed a coat from the hanger. "I'm returning to Lexington to check on him. I need to know that he's okay."

"Jesus, Connor," Hank rolled his eyes back. "Then what do you suggest I do while you're off dealing with that shit?"

"I programmed the transponder frequency into your phone," Connor removed an outdated smartphone from his pant's pocket.

Hank scowled at the device, "What the fuck, Connor? When did you take my phone?"

"When you were asleep," Connor planted the phone into Hank's palm.

"What the fuck, Connor," but Hank's proclamation sounded more annoyed than angry. "Don't touch my stuff when I'm sleeping. I thought we've been through this already."

Connor's eyes fell to the ground, "You were going to need the frequency, so I assumed it was the right thing to do."

"Ah, whatever," Hank flailed his hand at Connor then commenced to place on his knitted cap. "Just… Just try not to do it again."

And with that, Hank left the warm confines of his pleasant home and with it his two favourite boys: Sumo and Connor.

Sumo lifted is broad head at Connor and let out a pathetic, yet adorable, whine.

"I'm sorry, Sumo," Connor knelt down and patted the dog's pleasantly furry sides. "I promise we'll be back soon."

There was something unsettling about his offered promise to the large canine. Connor had made so many promises to so many people without knowing if he could keep them. This was an other one of those promises. Connor just assumed he'd eventually return to the dog, but he couldn't promise that. Who knows what will happen between here and there? Who knows what will happen between here and all the promises he's made?

* * *

It started to snow again in the Detroit area. The wind was fierce and cut through you like glass. The sun took its refuge behind a monstrous cloud that would refuse to release light from the heavens for days to come. Although Connor couldn't feel the brutal wind or the warm sun, he could feel the ominous presence the cloud brought. Humans had a tendency to be irrationally superstitious individuals, hence Connor's observation of the bizarre behaviours they would often portray on days like these.

When Connor arrived at the ex-Captain's house, he immediately surmised that something had gone awry. On a day as cold and windy as this, the man's front door was wide open. The door rocked back and forth on it's hinges, being pushed around by the powerful winter gust. Ominous indeed.

"Captain Davis?" Connor shouted through the wind as he creaked the cabin door open. "Captain Davis?"

The house was cloaked in darkness, just barely lit by the heavy winter day. There seemed to be no obvious movement or sound coming from within. Connor carefully pulled out his gun and began a slow and systematic search of the building's main floor. He only got as far as the kitchen when he found Davis's body.

"Davis…?" Connor scanned the grizzled man's limp body. No signs of life; he had been deceased for nine hours. Three vertebrae in his neck had been shattered along with his spinal cord. There were no sign of a struggle. He either didn't see his attacker coming or he made no attempts to stop them.

This woman, Khatri, had shown Connor how serious she was about keeping her secrets. There was a possibility that she might even be frightened by the outcome that could take place if the world did find out who she was and what she was doing. She was a dangerous person and she needed to be stopped. What else was this woman hiding?

Connor figured that Khatri must know he's after her. Why else would she kill Davis? She knew he talked and she knew who he talked to. But the question remained, why hadn't anyone made an attempt on Connor's life? He was just as mortal as Davis; just as fragile. And yet, she still hadn't done anything about Connor. What was she waiting for?

She was waiting for him to solve this case.


	24. Chapter 24: The Siren in The Twilight

"He was dead, Hank," Connor gave Hank a grim look as he watched Hank pick at a bowl of stale peanuts. "Just as I had suspected."

Hank glanced down to the end of the bar trying to establish eye contact with Jimmy, "What do you want? A congratulations or something? You were right, but that doesn't make me happy. And I sure hope it doesn't make you happy either. You know, it isn't always a good thing to be right."

"No," Connor's response was muffled. "I'm not happy that I was right."

"Good," Hank was now glowering down the bar; he just wanted a godforsaken drink already.

"But that doesn't mean I'm giving up," Connor examined the scowl on Hank's face and followed the man's glare along the bar. "I made a promise to Davis and I intend on keeping it."

"Jesus Christ," Hank moaned this while slapping his open palms on the counter-top. "Can I just get a fucking drink already?!"

Jimmy twisted his body towards Hank, "It's coming, Hank."

Connor tilted his head and raised a brow at Hank, "Are you alright?'

"Jesus," Hank released a deep sigh. "No, no I'm not fucking okay. In case you've forgotten, Henri only died four days ago… Four fucking days ago; blew her own goddamn brains out. You think I can't stop thinking about that?"

"Hank, I-" Connor started.

"I don't care..." Hank lifted a hand to Connor's mouth. "You don't have to say anything. You're just… You're just not making it better. Running around trying to get yourself killed."

"I don't think that's going to happen," Connor lifted his head and offered Hank a smile.

Just then, Jimmy placed Hank's usual drink on the bar, "There you go, Hank."

"Bout fucking time," Hank murmured in response then took a sip of the whiskey.

Connor continued his thought, "This person, Khatri, she must know I've been investigating her whereabouts, and yet, she has done nothing directly to me in response."

"Fuck, Connor," Hank spoke this into his drink. "Were you expecting her to?"

"I wasn't sure what to expect," Connor stared blankly at the far wall of the bar. "There's a lot I still don't understand. If I find her, I may be able to question her."

"Question her?" Hank shifted his gaze from the glass and onto Connor. "Question her about what?"

"I'm not sure yet," and Connor really wasn't sure at all what he would do when he found this woman. Davis acted like the only way to stop her was to kill her, but was that the best option? What if instead of killing her, Connor exposed her for what she was? He already knew a handful of her secrets, so he had a good start. But Khatri was a dangerous person; not someone who was easily tampered with.

"You're not sure?" Hank muttered this with pursed lips. "That's it? You still don't know why you're doing this?"

"Hank," Connor looked over. "This has something to do with, Henri. This woman made Henri a prisoner. I told you, I can't let that go."

Hank chugged what was left of his short drink, "I know."

"Davis gave me a couple of names," Connor pivoted around on his bar-stool. "One of them happens to be Jensen Polanski. Davis said these two people might be able to help me find Khatri."

"So," Hank nodded knowingly. "You're going to pay these people a visit?"

"I would like to," Connor said it as if he was asking for Hank's permission. But nothing Hank had to say about it would change Connor's mind, he just wanted Hank to agree with him. "The files Davis gave me contained two addresses. One of them appears to be Polanski's home address, so there is no guarantee I'll find him there. The other address, the one belonging to Kelly Mihn, is the location of an office within the U.S. Department of State."

"No shit?" there was something about it that Hank didn't find surprising. Of course, this Khatri woman had people working within the government. She technically did herself.

"This means I will have to go to Washington, D.C. in order to speak with her," again, Connor was searching for some form of validation from Hank. "Also, Jensen Polanski's home address is located in Washington."

To Connor's amazement, Hank did not seem agitated by this, "Alright. Well, D.C. is what?… A two hour trip from here?"

"Average flight times are an hour and thirty-two minutes," Connor replied.

"That's not bad," Hank grinned at Connor after finishing the rest of his drink. "So, when do we leave?"

"Uh, Hank, I-" Connor had no intentions of letting Hank join him. "-I was… I was going to go alone. It would be best if you continued our search for Markus."

Hank began to glower as he slowly shook his head, "No. It's your search for Markus and you've left me to deal with it. I thought solving this case was important to you?"

"It is..." it was hard for Connor to describe the connection he felt. There was just something inside of him; something deep inside. Some voice, some part of him that believed that finding Khatri and their investigation of this virus was related. It was an intuition based off of nothing. It was an excuse to not let go of Henri… It was an excuse to save what was left of her, whatever that may be.

"That's it?" Hank shrugged in frustration. "It is? It is what, Connor?"

"It is important to me, Hank," Connor was becoming jaded over repeating himself again and again to Hank. "I told you I have a feeling-"

"Feeling?" Hank cut Connor off, but his interruption was quiet. "I know Connor, I know. And if it was anyone else I'd tell them to fuck off. But..."

"Thanks, Hank," Connor smiled at the leeway the old man offered him. "It means a lot to me. I promise you, it'll be worth it. I'll get to the end of this."

Hank gestured at Jimmy for another pour, "I don't doubt you will."

* * *

Hank had been moving in a particular fashion through the neighbouring areas of the weapon shop North had visited. He flowed slowly in a systematic circle. He couldn't even stay in his car due to the range of the frequency. He vacantly gazed at his phone, walking up and down blocks and alleys, hoping something would pop up. Just anything would do.

There was tension building. Tension building in the world. Tension building in Hank's relationship with Connor. He was so forgiving, so kind, so understanding towards the boy, and yet… Yet he wasn't sure what to do or make of the situation. Plainly put, Hank felt lost. He couldn't stop thinking about Henri and he couldn't stop thinking about Connor. Things seemed so good, but for only so little. If only he could have that all back. The moment that Henri was still alive. The moment that he knew that she and Connor were in love. The moment he had his family back.

In his trailing thoughts, Hank's phone began to vibrate in his hands, "Hello?" Hank had yet to figure out the ancient technology of caller id. That is, he couldn't be bothered to read a name when it passed on his phone's display.

It was Chris on the other end, "It finally happened. Perkins started his witch-hunt for Markus."

"Goddammit," but was it so bad? If Perkins found Markus, Hank could forget ever solving this case. "Thanks for letting me know, Chris."

"Are you doing okay?" Chris could sense the tension hidden behind Hank's words.

"Yeah, yeah," Hank sighed in response. "You know, things are just as complicated as ever."

Hank heard Chris clear his throat, "I'll be the first one to admit it, but… Things seemed a lot nicer with Agent Monroe around."

"Yeah," Hank chuckled, but it was from mild amusement if anything. "But that's not how things are anymore. Guess we'll just have to deal without her."

"I knew you were fond of her, Hank," Chris continued. "I knew a lot of people were. Any idea what happened? Why they took her off the case?"

And it hurt to hear the words and it hurt to think about it, but he couldn't tell the truth.

"Who knows?" Hank brushed the question away. "It doesn't matter now. Anyways, I have shit to do. Keep me posted about the king of pricks."

"Will do, Hank," and Chris hung up his phone.

* * *

The weather in Washington was far more favourable than that of Detroit. Detroit was all snowstorms and ice, but Washington hadn't seen more than a few centimetres of snow that year. Not that the weather mattered that much to Connor, in the end. Or maybe it did? There was something ultimately calming about a slow snowfall. And when he thought of the snowfall he thought of Henrietta. He thought of her memory of watching Hank during a gentle storm. He thought of the cool flakes touching her skin… Touching his.

Polanski's listed address was on Florida Avenue. The house that Connor found seemed too big for one man, but maybe Polanski did have a family. Polanski was another hidden figure; he simply didn't exist on paper. The only thing Connor had to go on was this singular address.

He knocked on the door, but of course, no one answered. He rang the doorbell, but of course, no one answered. Who's to say if anyone would be home anytime soon? Who's to say anyone would ever be home?

Connor had broken into a few places in the past, but only with strict legal permission. He broke into Hank's house when they first met, but it was because Connor thought Hank was in danger… And he was, in a way. Connor had no legal reason to break into Polanski's home; if it was even that. But he had plenty of personal reasons.

Connor walked to the back of the house which was mostly concealed by sprawling trees and unkempt bushes. Despite the flora's nakedness, it was unlikely anyone would be able to see Connor if he did decide to make a forced entry through the back door.

He swung open the screen door and knocked once more just to be sure. What if Polanski was home, yet not alive? There was the possibility. Only the knob had a lock, so it was easy enough for Connor to force it open. The interior of the house was cloaked in darkness and dust. Nobody had been there for a long time.

The was no security devices installed within the home which was rare. Dr. Polanski obviously had nothing to hide. That or he wasn't afraid of someone finding out what he did have to hide. From the information gathered by Connor's initial scan of the kitchen and living area, no one had been there in seven months. That's a long time to leave a home unattended.

The house; however, did appear to be well lived in. The atmosphere was that of a family home with its large inviting living room furniture and subdued colour pallets. There were framed pictures resting on a shelf that hung over the used fireplace. Only one of the pictures had Polanski it, and it was of him with his parents. The other photographs contained distant relatives of his; nothing else of significance.

Something did catch Connor's eye though while he was staring at the sooty mantelpiece. There was a picture not contained within a frame and lying face down underneath one of him and his parents. The picture had October 2034 etched on the back in blue ink. The picture itself was of Dr. Polanski and…?

Connor's LED flashed red, "What?"

He couldn't obtain any information about the other person. No database Connor had access to could identify the white male Polanski was standing next to. It was probable this man was like Polanski himself: another ghost of Khatri's. A group of people, including Henri, who simply did not exist.

* * *

"I'll be coming back tomorrow," Connor said this over the phone to Hank. "By the time I finished searching Polanski's house, visiting hours for the office Kelly Mihn works in was over."

"Can't you just visit her at home?" Hank's voice was slightly muffled through his lack of understanding of how telecommunications worked. Sometimes Hank would talk too loudly or hold the receiver too far from his face. Connor always found this odd considering Hank grew up in the technological boom.

"No local databases or otherwise contain information on a Kelly Mihn," Connor explained. "I only have the address of the office she works in. There's a possibility she might be using an alias."

"Alright, well you know..." the wind was howling through Hank's phone. "Stay someplace warm, okay? Don't wander the streets all night or some shit like that, okay?"

"I got it, Hank," Connor smiled at this even though no one was around to see it.

* * *

Connor already knew what Kelly looked like, but she didn't know him. He decided it would be a poor choice to meet with her face to face in her own office. Who knows who was watching? But that didn't mean someone wasn't watching right now. Instead, Connor stood outside the building's front entrance in anticipation of her arrival. And, as expected, Connor saw Kelly Mihn exit a taxi as she made her way to her office.

"Excuse me," Connor raised his hand to grab her attention.

At first, Kelly glanced around thinking she had been mistaken for someone else, "Yes?" she pointed to herself.

"Kelly Mihn?" Connor let his words sink in. "Am I correct?"

She gave Connor the impression of being stunned, "Sorry, what?"

"Am I mistaken?" he lifted a brow at her.

Kelly's eyes darted back and forth then she whipped her face around, "How do you know that name? Who the hell are you?"

"Do you know a man named Jared Davis?"

She twisted her head back and scouted the area before moving off to a bare tree standing at the corner of the building, "You want to explain to me what this is about?"

Together they stood under the sad tree while Connor curiously examined Kelly's response, "Jared Davis said you could help me."

"And with what exactly?" tones of anxiety came through her voice.

"He seemed to believe you could help me locate a woman who goes by the name of Khatri."

A dense silence settled over them like an impenetrable fog.

"How…?" after a minute Kelly finally replied. "How do you know that name?"

"There's a lot I know," but Connor didn't have the patience to explain the minutiae of his knowledge to her. "But I'm here to talk about what you know."

"What I know?" Kelly gasped and pointed to herself. "As far as you're concerned I know nothing and we never met."

She began trotting away, but Connor latched onto her shoulder, "Please, I need your help. Davis suspected you no longer were interested in working for Khatri. Is that true?"

"You shouldn't be saying things like that," she jumped over to him and hushed his statements with an open palm.

"I want to help," Connor gazed at her with his soft eyes. "I want to help you and Davis… and..."

"I don't think you understand," she whispered this harshly. "I have a family you… You robot. Maybe that isn't something you can understand."

"I-I-" but he did have a family. Hank was his family. Henri was… was his family. "Are you familiar with who Henrietta was?"

"Henri..." Kelly paused for a moment. "She was a test subject in Dr. Everett's experiments. A successful one, too."

A test subject in an experiment. She was just a number on a piece of paper to them.

"Henri is no longer alive," he looked to the ground. "She was suffering. She hated being a slave to Khatri, but she never would have admitted it. I can't believe this woman, Khatri, is a good person by any means."

"This is why Davis was killed?" she frowned at Connor, it was a painful and vicious expression. "I heard he had died, but it was determined to be of natural causes. I doubt that's the truth," a laugh came out with this particular comment. "Me, the one who knows everything, being told the truth by a robot. How strange."

Connor's expression fell to the ground once more, "He sacrificed his life giving me the information that led me to you. I can't let his death be in vain. I'm begging you to help me."

"Whatever we do..." she studied Connor's sullen face. "We won't have a lot of time… I know some people I can… I can make things work for now."

"I know I'm asking you a lot," Connor's eyes lifted as he was relieved by her phrase. "But I intend to do everything in my power to stop this woman."

"I don't think you have much of a choice now," her sentiments echoed those of Davis's. "She's not the type of person to take being hunted lightly."

"So," Connor was anticipating the final reveal: Where is Khatri? "How can I find her?"

"Okay, so," Kelly paused again to investigate her surroundings. "I've never met her myself. But I do know of a few people who do communicate with her directly."

"You've never met her?" he questioned the oddity.

"She's a private woman-" Kelly glowered inward. "-with a lot of enemies. But like I said: I know a few people who've met her in person from time to time. And know someone in particular that you might be able to coerce."

"Coerce?"

"I know it's a strong word," but it was the only word she could find that was appropriate for the situation. "But it's what you're going to have to do."

"I'm listening," and he was.

"Dr. Jim Everett, the man who created the experiments that Henrietta was involved in, along with many others..." she hesitated seemingly paranoid that someone might be listening and that very well could have been the truth. "Jim hosts a 'charity' gala every year to help gain support for his disturbed experiments. That's how him and Khatri originally met seven years ago. I've been invited as I usually am, so you can be my plus one this year."

"When and where is this?" Connor asked. "And how are we going to coerce him into telling us Khatri's location?"

"Now," she continued to explain. "He doesn't know where she is, but he could set up a meeting with her at a particular location. And as far as the coercion goes… Let me handle that."

Connor studied her closely, "Are you sure you want to do this?"

"I've been wanting to do this for years..." she wanted to say his name, but he hadn't mentioned it yet. "Sorry, what's your name?"

"Connor."

"Well, Connor," Kelly was confident this was the right thing to do, to finally- "This has gone on for long enough. It's time we put an end to it."

"So, where is this gala going to take place?" Connor noticed she still hadn't answered that much.

She took in a deep breath and looked up at the tall android, "It'll be in Detroit, as it usually is. It'll be at the Waterview Loft at Port Detroit. It's a New Year's Gala, so the first day of 2040, Sunday."

"Tomorrow?" Connor's head perked up.

"You better dress the part," she scoffed at his ragged coat and old beanie. "That's not going to cut it. Do you own a suit?"

Connor pulled at Hank's jacket, "I'll get one."

"I just knew it..." she stared at him again. "I just knew coming to work on a Saturday was a bad idea. Here's what I get."

"If I helps," Connor smiled at her. "I'm grateful for your help."

"It does."

* * *

"You come here often?" she smiled at him; he had been waiting for that. He had been leaning on this bar in this obnoxiously noisy club waiting for this. Waiting for a pretty woman.

He didn't acknowledge her with his eyes, but with his voice, "Is that it? That's the line? You've been staring at me for twenty minutes and that's the line you start with?"

"You seem like a fish out of water here," she ignored his questions.

When he did turn to her, he examined her thoroughly. Long dark hair, dark as the night, with bangs that draped over her piercing eyes. Those eyes were something else. One blue and one green; what did they call that? Heterochromia iridium, but that didn't matter. What mattered was their hypnotizing appeal.

"Nothing to say?" her accent; what was it? Irish or Scottish maybe, but it didn't matter. He liked it.

"Oh, I have plenty to say," he offered a sly grin; it was dirty and she didn't like it, but that wasn't the point.

She rolled her knuckles alongside his arm, "You don't look like the party type. What are you doing here?"

"Looking for a good time," and he was going to get it out of her.

"Funny," she grinned in response, but she didn't want to. "That's exactly why I'm here, too." but her idea of a good time would certainly surprise him in the end.

"Oh, yeah? He kept on that dirty smile. "How about we go have a good time together?"

"You know what," she didn't want to go with him, yet she had no choice. "I thought you'd never ask."

They left that large, noisy, obnoxious nightclub together. He hated going to places like that, but the girls at sleazy bars were always on the promiscuous side. And she, dark hair and piercing eyes, was his best catch yet. Usually, girls like her couldn't be found in places like that.

They found a motel just as sleazy as he was and just as sleazy as that club was.

"Nice place," after entering the room, the dark haired woman plucked at the filthy bed-sheets

"Not good enough for you?" he himself wasn't picky.

It didn't matter to her, in the end, "Oh, that's not important anyway..."

And it didn't matter because he had two choices: Cooperate or die.


	25. Chapter 25: The Automaton in The Riddle

"So, what's your name?" she seated herself on the border of the probably-never-clean dresser which rested next to the wall opposite that of the bed.

His attention was focused on possible future events when she asked this, "It's Richard. And frankly, sweetie, I don't care what yours is."

"Ella," she answered despite his evidently uncaring attitude.

"Are we here to talk?" he flapped his arms at her and chuckled. "I wasn't really in the mood for talking about my feelings, and I didn't think you were either."

"Richard, huh?" she leered at him through her messy bangs. "Richard Perkins, am I right?"

This he couldn't help but regard, "How would you know that?'

"I know… things," her twisted grin shone back at him. She was trying to frighten him into cooperation. He didn't have to die if he really didn't want to. "It's my job to know things."

"What the fuck do you want?" he just wanted to have sex with her, but he was sceptical about that still being an option.

"Not much," she held her devious smirk on him. "But I will offer you an ultimatum if that helps."

"An ultimatum?" the words burst through his voice in laughter. "Is that a threat? Who the fuck are you? And who the fuck do you think I am."

She raised her head and pushed her lengthy hair away from her eyes, "I made it clear I already know you are. And frankly, sweetie, you'll never get the chance to know who I am. Now," she shoved herself away from the unhygienic piece of furniture. "I was going to give you an ultimatum, not threaten you. How you take my words is exclusively up to you."

"You're fucking kidding, right?" he wasn't afraid of her, yet there was something unnerving about her confident tone.

"Not this time," she'd heard the, 'are you fucking kidding me' line before. "The choice is yours: you do what I say, or you don't."

"Okay," he shrugged at her. "Then I don't do what you say."

She lifted her index finger and wagged it at him, "I wasn't finished. You do what I ask and you leave this room in one piece. You don't do what I ask and you leave this room in a body bag… And depending on my mood, in maybe more than one piece."

"What a fucking joke," he almost couldn't believe how ridiculous this situation was. He was being threatened by some woman, a young girl who looked as harmless as a butterfly. "Are you out of your fucking mind?"

"There's always the possibility," she figured that admitting to some type of mental issue might help brew up the fear in him. "You're working on a case right now, I'm right? And that case pertains to locating a missing android know as Markus, correct?"

"Now why in the hell would you know that?" it wasn't as if Perkins' investigation had been made public, but that didn't mean plenty of idiots didn't know what was going on.

"Not the point," she raised her finger at him again. "The point is I'm asking you to call off your search for Markus. That's it, that's all I ask."

"And if I don't, you kill me?" he didn't buy it for a second. "That's real fucking rich coming from a small girl like yourself. Are you even armed?" and he doubted she was considering her outfit of a tight, short black dress.

"No, I'm not," she confessed.

"Great," he roared in amusement; this girl was insane. "You threaten me without a weapon," he reached his hand into his coat and pulled out his own firearm. "Meanwhile, I am armed. How far did you think this conversation was going to get?"

"Oh, I don't need a weapon to kill you," she picked at her fingernails like she didn't have a care in the world. "And I'm not afraid of you."

Richard lifted his gun and pointed it at her bright face, "Is that so? I could shoot you right now and I'd be right in calling it self-defence."

"But you wouldn't do it," she took a break from playing with her fingertips to regard him. "There would be too many questions, especially from your wife. What were you doing with a young twenty-something girl in a cheap motel, huh? A young, unarmed girl?"

"Your threats mean nothing to me," but he was beginning to suspect she was quite serious in her nature. "Leave now and never talk to me again."

"Now, now," she narrowed her eyes at him, but still let that cold smile creep through. "Don't be so hasty," she said as she inched towards the armed man. "No one has to get hurt today. Well, no one in this room at least."

"I told you to fucking leave," he stepped up to meet her and pushed the gun closer to her face. He was trying to scare her, but he realized that that might not be possible.

"No," she snatched the gun from his hand which he was not expecting. The movement was sudden and over before he had a chance to react. Instead, he was left with bruised and broken fingers. "Jesus fucking Christ!" he gaped at his empty hand.

She backed away from him with a gentle saunter, "Now will you listen to me?" she twisted around and threw the gun down on the scuzzy dresser.

"You're fucking insane!" he barked.

"We've been over that," she rolled her eyes at him. "So the question still remains of whether or not you'll do what I say."

"That isn't going to happen," no matter how intimidating he found her, he had little faith she could actually kill him.

"Alright," she rubbed her hands together and nodded her head in disappointment. "The next part is still up to; how you die that is."

He had lost patience for her maddening ramblings, so he thought now was the time to make a directly offensive move. He seized her wrist with all of his might, although he wasn't sure about what would transpire afterwards. He figured maybe it would bring the fear of god into her, and she'd realize despite the broken fingers he wasn't easily trifled with. But obviously, this did not go according to plan.

She squeezed at the forearm which he used to grab her, "I was going to say that we can make this quick and painless, but I guess you have other plans."

He wasn't sure what to do as the pressure she brought onto his arm became agonizing.

"Let… go," he wheezed this out.

And she did what he said, but it didn't stop him from continuing to attack her. This time he lunged his upper body weight to try to throw her off balance. If he could achieve this, it might be enough time to grab his gun from the other side of the room. But obviously, this did not go according to plan.

She twirled her body to the side and snatched onto his broken hand. He was about to start his cry of pain, but she let a heavy fist fall on the back of his neck. His body thudded to the ground in speechlessness.

She crouched over his body which had fallen face down, "I've crushed your spinal cord… You know, it's probably one of the worst ways to die. You can have awareness for up to three minutes as your lungs and heart start to fail. It's like drowning."

He didn't blink; he didn't move, but he was still alive nonetheless.

"I almost drowned once..." and possibly she had died before. "I was a child and we went to the beach..." these words reminded her of something else. A silhouette of a face. A dream. Was it a dream?

It didn't matter now, "What a terrible fate you've met." Her mission was a success.

* * *

"That seems like a bad idea," Hank said this to Connor after the boy had explained what happened on his trip to Washington.

"If Jim Everett knows where I can find Khatri, I have to talk to him," nothing was going to stop Connor from talking to him.

A barista placed a drink down at the end of the coffee shop bar, "Hank?"

Hank gave the woman a nod of acknowledgment while clasping the hot drink in his hand. He peered around the mostly empty shop and sat himself in a booth next to a window. Connor followed as always.

"Perkins is after Markus, Connor," Hank sighed from exhaustion. "I thought you wanted to find Markus before he did?"

"There's only so much we can do to locate Markus," Connor was aware that Hank was doing mostly all the work in this situation. "Markus is keeping himself hidden; he won't be easily found. We also have more information than Perkins."

Connor saw how tired and warn out Hank looked, "Are you alright, Hank?"

"I've been wandering the streets by myself in the cold these past few days and I'm fucking sick of it," he ranted in response.

"I'm sorry, Hank," Connor felt guilty for abandoning Hank. What Connor was doing was important, but he was also placing the onus of finding Markus solely on Hank. "The gala isn't until 8pm tonight, so I will assist you in our search for Markus until then."

"Yeah, yeah," but Hank didn't find Connor's words particularly reassuring. "You know what I'd like? To be back on duty. To feel like I'm actually fucking investigating something. For all we know, whatever this thing was, maybe it gave up. There hasn't been any recent reports of androids killing or stealing shit."

"This virus, Hank," Connor felt he needed to remind Hank of why they were doing any of this. "This virus has been killing people… And if it wasn't for it… Henri would still be alive."

"I know," Hank stared down at his black drink. The fact that it killed her is exactly why he wanted to forget about it. When it first happened, he felt like going after it and Markus was the right thing to do, but now… But now he seemed drained of the will to live. "I haven't forgotten that."

"And neither have I," and despite the impressions Connor had been leaving on Hank, this much was true. Connor had not forgotten the importance of finding Markus, but he also could not forget the feeling… The feeling it was all connected: Khatri and this virus. But he still didn't understand why he felt that way or where it came from. "But I suspect that talking to this Khatri woman will lead us to some answers."

"All I can say is that I hope you're right," and this much was true.

Hank felt a buzz in his pocket, so he plucked his phone out, "Yeah?"

Go figure, it was Captain Fowler on the other end, "Hank, you and the Detective are back on duty."

"Oh yeah?" Hank glanced up at Connor and couldn't help but let out a tiny smile. "What happened?"

"Homicide, Hank," Fowler replied. "I want you and Connor to get to the scene before the FBI start fucking the place up. Whether or not it was a federal agent, this is my fucking city."

"FBI?" Hank raised a brow.

"It's Perkins, Hank," the Captain explained. "He's been murdered."

* * *

The snow had ceased that day, but only to let in more freezing rain. If it wasn't so goddamn cold out, Hank might not have minded the timid drizzle. The droplets of water felt like tiny pins on his skin; it was unwelcome to say the least. When Hank saw Connor in it, he didn't seem bothered by it, but of course, the boy wasn't. Sometimes it was easy to forget that Connor wasn't a human; sometimes it was easy to forget that all androids weren't humans.

When Hank and Connor pulled up to the seedy motel that was nestled in a corner of North Corktown, they could see Chris standing at the edge of the doorway to one of the rooms.

"Well..." Hank pivoted his eyes over to Connor before leaving the car. "Can't say I'm gonna miss the prick."

"Hank, a federal agent has been murdered," Connor didn't like Perkins either; however, this case was to be taken seriously. "We shouldn't be making jokes about it."

"Just sayin'," Hank's voice squeaked in defense. "Anyway, let's go check it out."

Hank and Connor commenced to leave the car together to meet up with the awaiting Chris.

"Morning, Hank," Officer Chris nodded at them. "Connor."

Hank peered over Chris's shoulder and into the cramped room, "Whadda we got so far?"

"No signs of forced entry, so whoever did this had access to the room or came in with him," Chris stepped into the room with Hank closely following behind.

Hank puffed out a breath as he gazed around the filthy place, "Now, who do you think he was inviting to a place like this?'

From the doorway, Connor spoke up, "Somebody he shouldn't have been seen with. It is unlikely he was inviting his wife to stay the night here with him."

Chris shook his head in agreement, "Apparently, he told his wife he was working late, so he never went home."

"So what?" Hank tilted his head at the dead body. "Found some girl, or guy, last night… Brought them here and then they killed him?"

Connor studied the facade of the motel in search of security cameras, "Is there any CCTV in this area?"

Chris pointed a finger at the check-in building in front of the motel, "There was in there, but whoever this other person was they didn't go in with him. They probably just waited outside while he rented the room."

Crouching over Perkins' body, Hank stared up at Chris, "Cause of death?"

"Crushed spinal cord," Chris responded. "Painful way to go."

"No shit," Hank looked into Perkins' empty eyes. "Also, you'd have to be pretty fucking strong to do something like that."

"His right hand is broken and we found some severe bruises on his left forearm," Chris watched Connor inch towards the body with a flashing yellow LED. "No fingerprints on the body."

Connor raised a brow at this remark, "So it was an android?"

"Most likely," Chris shrugged. "The room is littered in fingerprints, but we can probably discount any of them."

Hank frowned at them, "You're jumping the gun here. This person could have been wearing gloves; it's fucking cold out."

"You just said yourself this person would have to be very strong to do this type of damage," Connor added his consideration. "An android is the most likely suspect, but that doesn't narrow it down much."

Hank straightened his stiff back out, "Any idea where he was before this?"

Chris pursed his lips, "Not as of yet."

Hank crouched down again and riffled through Perkins' pockets, "Did you check his recent credit card purchases?"

"Give me the card and I'll see what I can find," Chris outstretched an arm to Hank.

After Hank handed over the card, he inspected the quizzical expression on Connor's face, "Got any ideas?"

"I have questions," Connor glanced at Hank with a creased forehead. "Like why would someone want Agent Perkins dead?"

"Probably not a coincidence that it happened right after he started his search for Markus," the corners of Hank's mouth curled up a bit. "I mean, you think this was an android, right?"

"I do," Connor prepared an analysis to offer Hank. "It would require a force of at least 3,500 newtons to inflict the damage we are seeing on Perkins' spine. This is far above the average punching force of a human, unless they were a professional fighter."

"Maybe they were," Hank was obnoxiously playing devil's advocate. "It's a possibility."

"But what would be the motive under those circumstances?" Connor questioned Hank in return. "If this was an android controlled by the virus, killing him would make sense. They didn't want him to find Markus."

"I hate to say it, but Perkins is easily replaceable," Hank let out a grimace. "And why not come after us? We were the one's originally investigating it. The thing must fucking know us on first name basis by now."

"We're missing something," and Connor was right.

When Chris came back into the room, he flagged down the two, "Hey, I got something. Turns out Perkins visited a club on Woodward Ave last night. Looks like he came right here after."

Hank grinned at Connor, "Well, there we go. C'mon, let's go check the place out."

* * *

Connor pressed his hands against the smooth, clean bar-top. The place was practically spotless; they had done well in cleaning it from the night before.

He gazed over at Hank who had been asking the bar's manager a few questions, "Nothing on the CCTV, Hank."

The manager pricked himself up and stared over Hank's shoulders towards the android, "Yeah, yeah, someten happen wit it last night. All the stuff got screwy, couldn' use em for shit. Just fuckin' got toes cameras replaced, too. Fuckin' garbage."

Hank shook his head in frustration staring down at his data pad, "Can you call in whoever was working last night? See if we can get some witnesses here."

"Of course, of course," the manager appeared to have a nervous tick, either that or he was on drugs.

"Yeah, you do that," Hank narrowed his eyes at the anxious man.

Connor looked around at the empty place, "This venue can safely fit up the five-hundred people, but it's likely there was more last night."

"Well," Hank scratched at the bridge of his nose. "Somebody saw something. Let's just hope they remember."

"He seems nervous," Connor pointed at the manager who was now making a set of phone calls to his employees.

"I know his type," Hank chuckled. "Bet this guy is up to illegal shit all the time. Whether or not we're here for him, cops make him nervous."

Again, there were attitudes that humans possessed which Connor still felt alien to. The man literally had nothing to worry about because the case did not directly pertain to him.

"Uh, yeah," the manager murmured the words as he hung up his phone. "So a couple of ta waitresses last night and my bartender are headin' on over. I couldn' getta hold of any others… You know I, uh… I tried, I-"

"That'll be fine," Hank put an end to the man's ramblings.

"You wanna drink or someten?" the bar manager attempted to calm his own nerves with a shaky grin.

Hank responded with a frown, "It's ten o'clock in the morning; I don't think so. Jesus."

It was only twenty minutes until the arrival of the bartender and waitresses, but Connor used the additional time to scan the entire establishment. As he noticed before, it was practically spotless. This man, who Connor had scanned to get the name of Alfredo Esposito (who also had no apparent accent besides an odd slurring of certain words), clearly cared a lot for this business. Not only was he the manager, he was the sole owner of the bar and had been for the past eight years.

"Here we go," Hank gestured with his head at Connor.

Connor turned to see a small group of people entering through the front door. Obviously, they were Alfredo's staff from the previous night.

"I'll talk to the bartender if you wanna ask those girls a few questions," Hank didn't have a way with ladies like Connor did, and Hank was certain Connor was unaware of this. He was a handsome kid with a nice, safe face, and girls could appreciate that.

"Joey En… gewen…?" Hank struggled with his last name.

"It's Nguyen..." although Joey was used to the mispronunciation of his last name. "Just uh, think of the n being silent. Guen."

"Ah, okay..." Hank was still confused.

"Just call me Joey, that'll be fine," he smiled.

"Okay, Joey," Hank looked down at the data pad he was holding and brought up a picture of Perkins. "Do you recognize this guy?" he showed Joey the profile.

"Oh, yeah, of course," Joey always remembered a good tipper. "Comes in here about once a week. Nice guy. Or should I say he never caused any trouble."

"Once a week?" Hank always suspected Perkins was a piece of shit, he just wasn't sure how big of a turd the guy was until now.

"He'll come in, have a few drinks, leave with some girl," Joey rubbed his palms together. "That's usually how it goes. We get a few of his types in this place."

He couldn't believe it; what a piece of garbage Perkins must have been, "Was he here last night?"

"For sure," Joey vigorously nodded in reply. "He sat at the bar as he usually does."

Hank gazed over at Connor who was possibly uncomfortable? Poor boy just didn't know how to deal with the opposite sex. He made things work with Henri though, but only God knows how. She was an odd one herself though...

"Was he with anyone?" Hank queried.

Joey scratched at the scruff of his almost-beard in thought, "For sure. She wasn't his usual fare, that's for sure."

"Meaning?"

"First of all, she wasn't nearly drunk enough," but when Joey said this his smile turned down. "He prefers the drunk ones… I know that sounds pretty fucking sleazy now that I'm saying it."

"Yeah, it does," Hank looked over to find Connor standing next to him as he had abandoned the young girls.

Connor creased his forehead in his typical fashion, "They did not see Agent Perkins last night."

"That's okay," Hank pointed at Joey. "He was just giving me the details on Perkins visit here. So this girl he was with, what did she look like?"

"She was pretty, you know?" Joey continued his explanation of the previous night. "But like, not too pretty. I mean, she wasn't a model or anything, but I wouldn't throw her out of bed for eating a bag of chips."

"To the point," Hank exhaled.

"Yeah," Joey kept on. "She had long, black hair, a bit wavy, I guess. With uh, with bangs." he used his hand to imitate how long they were. "Freaky eyes. Like one was blue and an other was green… What do they call that they call it-"

Connor interrupted him, "Heterochromia iridium."

"Sure," Joey waved at him. "She was wearing a small, black dress. And uh, she was a bit pale."

Hank pursed his lips at Connor and shrugged, "And she left with him? Did you get a name?"

"Yes, she left with him," Joey nodded again. "But no name. Guy paid for her drinks, she only had the one though."

"Notice anything else unusual about her?" a brief description wasn't much to go on.

"No, I don't think so," Joey tried to remember whatever else he could. "I've never seen her here before. Honestly, I think she was sick."

"Sick?" Hank wondered. "Like how?"

"Like I mentioned, she was a bit pale." he gave the impression of being sad when he spoke this. "I've seen that look before. It was like she was hiding it… Hiding the fact..."

"Hiding what?"

"Hiding the fact that she was dying," Joey lowered his eyes.

"So we're looking for a dying girl who's an android?" Hank squinted at Connor.

"We're still missing something, Hank." Connor took note of the irked look Hank carried.

And just as before, he was right.


	26. Chapter 26: The Singer in The Moonlight

**Disclaimer:**

 **This chapter contains the use of song lyrics. I do not own this music nor do I have the rights to it. I've included a citation of the mentioned album: Alex Turner(2018), Tranquillity Base Hotel and Casino (Domino), Arctic Monkeys**

* * *

"How is she?" Jensen's hands still felt like they were freshly covered in blood.

The two met in a not-so-discrete cafe on the advice of Khatri. Meeting in such a bustling and loud environment made sense in theory, but in practice Jensen didn't enjoy having to carry his voice over others, especially considering the content of their conversation.

She gave Jensen a crooked smile; a smile of derision, "You would know that better than I would."

"She's not going to make it," he felt his insides cramp up as he said this. "She's not going to live much longer… Not unless you allow me to-"

"No," Khatri didn't give him another second to finish. "I'm not sacrificing what's left of her humanity. That would defeat the purpose of her existence. You understand?"

Jensen let out a stuttering breath through puckered lips, "Then why let her live at all? Don't you understand that she's suffering?"

"She needs to finish the job she started," Khatri leaned back in her wire chair and crossed her legs. "So long as she lives long enough to complete her mission, that's all that matters."

"She's got maybe a month left," he often found Khatri's coldness terrifying. The woman could be so kind, so calm, so reassuring to your face, but when your back was turned from her you were just another number on her chart of statistics.

Khatri knew how much he cared about the girl and it was always his weakness, "That should be long enough. It's unfortunate, what she did to herself. But it's too late now, we'll have to move on."

He wasn't going to beg Khatri to save her, "Listen, if she sustains any trauma to her head, it's unlikely we'll be able to save her again."

"She knows to be careful," Khatri was a woman who exuded confidence; however, these past few weeks had been difficult for her. "She's an obedient girl."

Somehow, Jensen doubted that, "It probably wouldn't take much to trigger her memory. You risk a lot by putting her back in this situation."

"Is there something you know that I don't?" Khatri's expression was quizzical at the same time angry. "If something happens to her, I will consider it your fault. Is that what you want?"

Maybe it's because he had been threatened too much or maybe it was because he had nothing left to live for, but either way, Khatri's words fell on his deaf ears.

"I didn't think so," she took his silence as a no.

* * *

Sumo and Hank had been zoning out together in front of the TV when Connor came into the room wearing a navy-blue tuxedo.

"Ha," Hank snorted as he adjusted his posture. "Well don't you look fancy."

Connor lifted up his arms to examine his own appearance, "To quote Kelly Mihn exactly, she said to, 'dress the part' which is what I intend."

"Yeah, I see it," Hank couldn't help but reveal a smirk; he never thought he'd see Connor dressed so well. "Now you'll be a real lady killer."

"No, I don't plan on killing any women," Connor wasn't expecting Hank's offhand comment.

Hank exhaled with a chuckle, "That's not what I meant, Connor. I'm just sayin' you'll get some attention looking like the way you do."

"Oh," Connor studied himself again assuming he must have missed something. "I don't understand."

Hank furrowed his brow, "Like, you know, women find well-dressed men attractive. So what I'm saying is you might get some attention because of it."

"That's not the point," there were times Connor could be so unintentionally thick. "I'm not going there to attract women. I'm going to speak with Jim Everett."

"Jesus, Connor," Hank lolled his head into the couch.

"I'm sorry, Hank," and he was but not sure why.

"You know..." Hank's tone became sullen and his posture sagged. "I bet Henri would've liked to see you in that."

Connor looked at himself once more, "You think so?"

Sumo sensed Hank's distress and let out a little whimper.

"Yeah, I do," Hank patted Sumo. "I guess… I guess-"

"Hank," there was pain in Connor's voice and there was pain in Hank's voice, and honestly Connor didn't want to talk about it.

"Eh, whatever," Hank shook off the feeling and waved Connor away. "Go do your thing. I'll be here when you get back. Just be careful, okay?"

"I promise," but the words felt empty just the same.

* * *

The Waterview Loft was located at the edge of the Port of Detroit giving way to a broad scope over the spanning, frozen river. The exterior of the venue was adorned with muted neon lights which reflected off of the river's solid surface. It was an aesthetically pleasing sight, or at least Connor thought it was.

He could hear the low rumblings of a steady bass progressing through the air of the venue. Connor opened the towering glass door for Kelly which adorned the building's entrance.

 ** _Maybe I was a little too wild in the_**

 ** _seventies_**

 ** _Rocket-ship grease down the cracks_**

 ** _of my knuckles_**

The place had been decorated in a faux-eighties theme and the music playing added to the atmosphere. The band present on the modest, yet open stage was dressed like lounge singers. It wasn't uncommon for modern acts to imitate this aspect, but this wasn't a modern band. Instead, it was a highly detailed projection of a live performance. Someone went to great lengths to find archived footage of the band and recreated it in a three-dimensional environment. It wasn't unheard of, but it was something Connor had never seen before.

"Don't… cause… trouble," Kelly spoke this in an uneven meter. "It sounds counter-intuitive, but I don't think either of us is looking to get killed tonight."

Connor was still distracted by the enchantingly artificial band, but he heeded her words, "You still haven't shared your plan with me."

"We find Jim, get him alone, and-" she dragged out the vowel sound. "-we have a friendly chat with him. Jim may be an asshole, but he's also a fucking pussy."

This, Connor found strangely shocking. It didn't seem like her, then again, how well did he know her after all? Her entire plan could be a trap for Connor; a trap to lure him into the arms of Khatri. If that was the case, he certainly wasn't going down without a word. Connor had been in dire situations before.

"Listen, no messing around," Kelly was scared and fully aware of how dangerous things could become. "Let's split up, and you let me know if you find him."

She was about to walk away before Connor stopped her, "Excuse me, Kelly. But I don't know what he looks like and there are no databases which contain information on a Dr. Jim Everett, at least none that I have access to."

"Old, balding guy with a grey beard," she seemed inpatient in her explanation to him. "Short, round, probably hitting on a woman young enough to be his daughter. The guy is fucking gross like that."

"Got it," but Connor didn't really get it. Could he imagine what someone looks like? He had a program which contained an algorithm that could generate randomized humanoid figures as well as accept specific inputs. But he knew humans didn't work like that; humans could remember faces, and they could imagine them, too. He also wasn't able to input the detail of, 'probably hitting on a woman young enough to be his daughter' into this program.

 ** _And as we gaze skyward, ain't it dark_**

 ** _early?_**

 ** _It's the star treatment_**

 ** _I_ _t's the star treatment_**

 ** _The star treatment_**

* * *

 ** _Back there by the baby grand_**

 ** _Did Mr. Winter Wonderland_**

 ** _Say "Come here kid, we really need to_**

 ** _talk'?_**

"Well don't you look different," Jim swept his eyes over her radical change; although, it wasn't too radical. She was still ultimately recognizable.

"Different than what?" she smiled, but malice lingered in her mouth. "Different than the last time I saw you? What time specifically are you referring to?"

He choked at his drink recalling it, "I guess you probably don't remember the last time you paid me a visit? Aren't accidents just blessing's in disguise?"

Accident? She knew it wasn't an accident, "I somehow doubt that."

"You sound bitter," he gingerly rested his palm on her naked shoulder. "Maybe you do need to see me again."

She regretted wearing the sleeveless top that night, "I'm afraid I won't be alive long enough for that to make a difference."

"Then why are you doing this?" Jim was surprised Khatri would tell the girl that one detail. "You have nothing to lose now."

"I had nothing to lose before," she turned her dark eyes on him. "All that matters now is that I accomplish my mission. No matter the cost; that's how it's always been."

"Wow," Jim felt sorry for the girl... Sorry? How spectacular. He couldn't remember the last time he felt sorry for a flea, let alone a human. "How much have you forgotten?"

"That isn't relevant," how much had she forgotten? How would she even know? Where would she begin? "I've remembered what's important."

"So why exactly are you here then?" even Jim found himself in the dark when it came to Khatri's plans despite their closeness.

She thought the answer was obvious, "To keep an eye on you, Dr. Everett, what else?"

 ** _Singsong 'round the money tree_**

 ** _This stunning documentary_**

 ** _That no one else unfortunately saw_**

"Oh you know I can handle myself," he leered in return. "But I won't say no to you. Who ever could?'

Disgusting.

"What is she really worried about?" he rested his empty martini glass on the bar-top that stood adjacent to the small stage. "We know who's after her, so why don't we just kill him?"

"You're too simple," she slid up to the bar and gave the bartender a short grin. "She said he needs to complete his investigation."

"Right, right," Jim bellowed. "And you don't think you're better suited for that task?"

Why would he make that kind of implication, "I'm not a detective. That's not my job."

"Yes, that's right," he winked at her. "Espionage and assassination is your specialty. And here you are playing babysitter."

She narrowed his eyes at him, "I think you misunderstand. My job is to make sure you don't talk to him. If killing you is my only option, then I won't hesitate."

"What?" he didn't think she was serious. "She would rather have me killed-"

"Than be found?" she interjected. "Of course. So don't put yourself in a situation where he will talk to you."

 ** _So when you gaze at planet earth_**

 ** _From outer space_**

 ** _Does it wipe that stupid look off of_**

 ** _your face?_**

"I would advise the same thing," Jim snapped in response.

His statement confused her, "I've already been told to stay away from him."

"But did you ask why?" he knew she hadn't.

"No." and she wasn't interested. "I wasn't concerned about it."

"Maybe you should be," it didn't happen often, but Jim was starting to have a change of heart. Maybe it was because of the recent threat Khatri placed on his life or maybe he finally felt sorry for the poor girl. He hadn't met anyone who had suffered for so long and so often. But more likely than not, his change of heart was because he knew Khatri was a cunt, and he wasn't going to take her threats lightly.

The overwhelmed bartender rushed to the young woman at Jim's side and handed over another cocktail wordlessly.

"I'll let you get back to your party," she nodded at him while walking away with a drink in hand.

 ** _And all of my most muscular regrets_**

 ** _Explode behind my eyes like American_**

 ** _sports_**

* * *

 ** _Jesus in the day spa_**

 ** _Filling out the information form_**

Kelly figured it wouldn't take much work to find Jim, but when she did spot him, to say the least, she wasn't delighted by what she saw. The girl, the girl… What could she have been doing there? That woman was the harbinger of death wherever she went. This wasn't a good sign.

The young woman left Jim's side and Kelly was determined to have a word with her, "Hey," she called out as best as she could through the blaring sounds of the large room.

The woman had her glass placed up to her lips when she twisted around.

"What are you doing here?" Kelly questioned with wide eyes.

"I'm not sure if that's your business," she smirked behind her glass, but the gesture was hollow. "But I'm here to keep an eye on the doctor."

Kelly couldn't panic; this wasn't the time to start panicking, "An eye on him? For what purpose?"

"I was told an android might come asking unwanted questions," she lowered her drink and rested her elbow in her free hand. "I'm here to make sure he doesn't get any answers."

"Oh my god," Kelly almost couldn't believe Khatri had put them all in this situation. What was that crazy woman thinking? Was she so desperate to save herself that this was her last resort? "Do you even know who this android is?"

"Yes," the woman was taken aback. "His name is Connor. He's a detective for the Detroit Police. What does it matter?"

"So, you really don't remember him?"

"Why would I remember him?" she frowned at Kelly. "I don't understand your question."

 ** _Do you celebrate your dark side_**

 ** _Then wish you'd never left the house?_**

Kelly wasn't sure what exactly she was expecting. The first report that she had read about the situation had determined that the girl was brain dead, yet they still managed to resuscitate her. She was placed into field duty within five days which was an alarmingly short amount of time to Kelly. What real damage that had been done was undetermined, but it was clear her memory had been severely affected. If she couldn't remember Connor, what else had she forgotten? And now she was a problem; she was a barrier between them and Khatri. A brick wall that could easily crush them all.

"If you don't mind," she scowled once more. "I have a job to do, so I would appreciate if you stopped your interruptions."

Kelly needed to find Connor… They were in trouble now.

* * *

 ** _Last night when my psyche's_**

 ** _subcommittee_**

 ** _Sang to me in its scary voice_**

Connor scanned every face in that room. He surmised it would be the easiest way to determine Dr. Everett's identity; however, that was assuming the doctor wasn't using a false identity or alias.

"Hello there," a ravishing woman in a long lavender dress with autumn hair and emerald eyes spoke to Connor.

"Hi," he was unable to fathom the reason she decided to speak to him. "Can I help you?"

"I was hoping so," she was a brash one. "I know who you are. You're that famous android detective. Helped start the android revolution and paved the way for the new free world for your own kind. That's a rather impressive resume."

Connor tilted his head and lifted a brow at her, "If you'll excuse me, I'm actually looking for someone."

"Really?" she questioned him with a grin on her face in a low voice. "You're just going to walk away from me? Why don't you buy me a drink? You know, most men would be excited by that prospect."

"I'm an android," Connor replied bluntly.

"I know that," her red lips curled up. "I also know that androids have emotions. Wasn't that part of the point of your freedom?"

When he scanned her he discovered her name was Ada Goodwin, a famous performance artist. Connor was more or less culturally ignorant or rather, he chose to be. He could find out whatever he wanted about whoever he wanted, but he spent little time doing such. He enjoys music or so he believes he does, and he enjoys watching Hank watch sports, he thinks, but the rest of his time was dedicated to detective work.

"You must not be familiar with me," Ada refused to bare his silence. "So, how about you buy me a drink, so we can get to know each other."

 ** _So in response to what you whispered_**

 ** _in my ear_**

 ** _I'll be upfront, sometimes I fantasize_**

 ** _about you too_**

This time, Connor didn't hear a word she said. Well, as in, he did hear everything, but he completely ignored it. Instead, at this very moment when this woman was trying to convince him to do something he didn't want to, he saw something. He saw someone, and he instantly recognized who it was.

The woman he was gazing at leaned next to the bar by her lonesome. Her wavy blonde hair only reached her shoulders and her eyes were blue, not grey. She wore a white, floor-length, crimped skirt with a black cut off top that contrasted her pale face. She certainly didn't look the same, but he had no doubt she was the same person he once knew. The person he knew not that long ago. It was the person Connor and Hank had seen commit suicide seven days ago.

When Connor approached her he wasn't sure what to expect. She glanced in his direction but refused to bat an eye at him. Did she not notice him? How could she not notice him? Was she ignoring him? When he scanned her, he was informed that her name was Elita Watson and that she was the CFO for Initech Industrial. Nonetheless, Connor wasn't fooled by the pseudonym.

 ** _I missed a bridge and tunnel on the_**

 ** _starlight express_**

 ** _The head of special effects in my_**

 ** _mind's eye_**

"Henrietta?" his mouth draped open as he gaped at her.

The young woman's eyes danced around as she wondered if it was, in fact, her he was referring to, "Pardon?"

"Henri..."Connor repeated her name quietly.

"I think you've mistaken me for someone else," how on Earth did he know what her real name was. "My name is Elita Watson, actually."

"I uh-" he knew he was right, but she acted like they'd never met before. "-I guess I thought you were somebody I used to know."

Now she was curious… Both Jim and Kelly told her to stay away from Connor; was this why? Did he know more about her than she originally conjectured?

"What made you think I was this… Henrietta, you speak of?"

Was there a chance this woman in front of him, who appeared so similar in cadence and demeanour, was not Henri? It wasn't impossible, but it was absolutely improbable.

He realized he'd left the conversation hanging, "You just look almost identical to her. Your hair, eyes, and complexion aren't the same as hers."

"Was this somebody you liked?" she figured that if he did know something about her, something he shouldn't know, she might be able to deduce where he got his information from. And in any case, this was the opportune moment to distract Connor from ever getting a moment alone with Dr. Everett.

 ** _Take it easy for a little while_**

 ** _Come and stay with us_**

 ** _It's such an easy flight_**

"Very much," and he remembered how real she felt then and how real she seemed now. For the past week, she had been a phantom in his mind; a ghost to forever haunt him, but now… But now, here she was in flesh and bone once more.

She paused for a second to bestow him a gentle smile, "And what happened to her?"

"She died," Connor's eyes and head lowered.

She had died before, but could she remember how she had passed? Yes, she did. She shot herself… Killed herself. How was it ever that they saved her? How limited was her time left now that she was reborn?

"Oh," she averted her face from him and took a sip from her drink. "That's unfortunate, I'm sorry to hear that. I'm sorry that I remind you of her."

"I'm not," he brought his eyes up to meet hers.

Suddenly he became so familiar. Something so deep and so embedded inside her mind recognized him. She was aware of who he was and what he did, but there was something more than that in the back of her mind. Before, when Dr. Polanski had shown her the picture of Connor, she didn't recognize him at all. For the few days that followed, she was asked many questions about events that supposedly took place in her past, but she couldn't remember all of it. Had she known Connor before she shot herself? Were they trying to keep her away from him? And if so, why?

"Do you want to dance with me?" she looked over at the band then to Connor.

"Dance?" he lifted his brows. "I've never danced before."

 ** _The exotic sound of data storage_**

 ** _Nothing like it_**

 ** _First thing in the morning_**

"But I bet you can, right?" she curled the edges of her soft, pink lips up. "I bet you'd be pretty good, too."

"I would say the same about you," he was an android, so he could learn to dance in an instant, and he suspected she could accomplish the task in the same manner.

She led him out in front of the stage where it was already crowded with people. She pulled him close to her and rested her light hands on his tall shoulders.

If she was Henri, just as Connor had inferred, then he would be able to transfer his memories or feelings to her. Now as he was so close to her, he decided it was worth the try. He had to know if the woman in front of him was Henrietta.

Connor put forward a simple memory: the one of when they first met at the Detroit Police Station.

Her head bolted upward as she frowned at him, "What are you doing?" she gave him a short nudge and took a single step away from him.

It worked. She saw it and he knew that she had seen it.

The two of them stood three feet apart as she scowled at Connor in a confused expression. She didn't say another word to him before leaving that party. She didn't care about Jim, and she certainly didn't care if he talked to Connor. What she did care about was having a word or two with Khatri.

 ** _The world's first ever monster truck_**

 ** _front flip_**

 ** _I'm just a bad girl trying to be good_**

 ** _I've got a laser guiding my love that I_**

 ** _cannot adjust_**


	27. Chapter 27: The Hangman in The Rift

"Do you know what your name is?" Dr. Polanski stared at the frail, bed-ridden woman.

She cautiously lifted her aching head from her bed's pillow, "Henrietta Fischer..." she released a painful moan. "You asked me that yesterday."

"Just making sure you're still alright," Jensen knew she wasn't; however, telling her the truth wasn't going to improve her condition. "You were in surgery for two days; that can take a toll on a person."

"But you know I'm tough, doc," and right as she said this, she winced at the throbbing in her skull. "I have one hell of a headache though."

Jensen picked up a folder that rested on the metal tray at the end of her bed and pulled out a photo, "Do you recognize him?" the photo was of Connor which he had shown her prior.

"I don't know who that is," to her, his face lacked any familiarity. "You showed me that yesterday, too. Are we going over all the same stuff again?"

"Henri..." Jensen shut the folder of photos while nodding his head. "You were dead… For awhile. The damage you did to both parts of your brain was severe. You saved yourself from the virus… but… I just need to make sure you're okay."

"I really don't like the idea that I've forgotten things..." she stammered.

She could remember Jensen and that made him grateful, "I'm sure you remembered the most important things. Your loss of memory seems more closely related to events that took place this past year. You still remember your training, you still remember us, and that's what matters."

"But, I feel like..." it felt like a hole had formed inside of her; a hole that let the most important aspects of her life slip away, and she would never know what they were. Those memories were lost forever. She felt dead inside because of it. "I feel like I've forgotten something important."

Jensen gazed down at the manila folder, "We will remind you of anything important that you may have forgotten, and the rest… I wouldn't worry about the rest."

Jensen wanted to tell her about Connor and Hank. She knew that Hank was her father, but she never remembered confronting him about it. She had no idea who Connor was. He was just an empty face to her and not the person she had fallen in love with. She was right to feel as if she had forgotten something important, but it wasn't his place to remind her. It wasn't for him to say, yet there was still a chance for her. There was no way to predict how her mind would develop over the following days. For all he knew, something could trigger a specific memory, and he didn't doubt the possibility of that kind of event occurring.

"You'll be okay," he spoke these words despite knowing the truth. She was going to die again, and soon. However, Khatri wasn't going to let him save her a third time.

* * *

"We have a bit of a problem," Kelly was clenching her teeth looking uncomfortably nervous when she approached Connor. "I'm not sure if talking to Jim is a possibility now."

Connor lowered his brow at her, "What do you mean?"

Kelly wasn't sure if she should tell him the truth, or make up a story, or something or, "It's too dangerous. He has uh, a not-too-pleasant bodyguard watching him."

"Did you know Henrietta was alive?" Connor recalled that Kelly's trade was in knowing everything there is to know. "Did you know she was alive when I talked to you in Washington?"

The exact thing Kelly was hoping wouldn't happen, just happened, "I-I did… I'm sorry, Connor."

Was Connor angry? He wanted to throttle the woman for keeping that secret from him, "Why didn't you tell me?"

"This isn't relevant right now," all Kelly cared about was getting her fucking ass out of there before the angel of death razed them both. "She's the one watching after Jim, so we can't risk talking to him."

"She left," Connor bluntly informed Kelly. "I don't think she's coming back either."

Kelly's fearful expression gave way to a baffled one, "Did you say something to her?"

"Of the sort," Connor answered vaguely. He didn't feel that Kelly needed to know the specifics of his relationship with Henri; although, Kelly probably already knew plenty about it.

"Of the sort?!" she shrugged her arms furiously at him. "What do you mean, 'of the sort', Connor?"

He realized that Kelly was showing symptoms of a potential nervous breakdown, "We should focus our attention on finding Jim Everett and questioning him as we intended earlier."

"Okay, well, whatever," Kelly brushed him off, vigorously nodding her head. He was right. This wasn't the time to panic and she needed to remember that. If Henri really was gone, then they had much less to worry about now anyway. "He was at the bar; I lost him."

"We will split up again," Connor commanded.

"Yes, of course," she was beginning to break away from her high-stress mentality.

Connor found Jim, however much he wasn't expecting to. But the thing was, Connor, did in fact recognize Dr. Everett when he saw him. Connor recalled the doctor's image from the photograph he found in Jensen Polanski's unattended home. Conveniently, a facial scan of Dr. Everett brought up no information; this was something Connor had never seen before.

"Dr. Everett?" Connor raised his intonation when asking the question.

"Hmm?" the doctor gave Connor a curious look. "I know you… Connor, right?"

"I would like to have a word with you in private," as Connor said this, he messaged Kelly with his position. "If you don't mind."

"Yes, why not?" Jim let out a devious grin. Jim was outrageously pleased that Connor had the gumption to speak to him, but then again… Where had little Henrietta gone off to? She was nowhere to be seen which was fortunate. "I was hoping you'd come see me."

Kelly briskly rolled up to the pair and glared at Jim, "Nice to see you, Jim. Mind if we have a chat?"

"I know what you're going to ask," his continuing smirk caused the wrinkles on his face to fold around his mouth and eyes. "And the answer is: I'll tell you whatever you want to know. So, you can save your threats, you petty woman."

"Then to business," Kelly spat this at him with a locked jaw. "We just want to know where we can find her, that's all."

Jim rubbed his palms together while smiling, "I don't know where she is. Hell, she'd never tell anyone that. And she already knows that Connor is looking for her, so… So I'm not sure where the two of you are expecting to go from here."

"We know how close she is to you, Jim," Kelly pushed the conversation forward. He had to help them or else they were fucked.

"I can set up a meeting with her," Jim's face twisted at the thought. "How funny you must think it is that she'd fall for it, though. Obviously, after recent events, she'll know it's a setup."

"Just do it, Jim," her voice droned. "Say it's an emergency, say Connor's on to you, just say anything to get her in the open."

Jim lent them a pitiful frown, "I'll do it, and I'll pray for your success."

"Yeah," Kelly rolled her eyes at him. "You fucking do that, Jim. Just tell me when it's good and done and we can move on, kay?"

"Just be ready."

Connor would never see Dr. Everett again.

* * *

When Connor came home late that night, Hank and Sumo were snoozing away on the living room sofa with the TV still blaring its nonsense in the background. Connor acknowledged the two with a faint smile, but the heavy thoughts of the party weighed on his mind. Should he tell Hank about Henrietta? Should he tell Hank that she was still alive? What would Hank even think; would he even believe it? Connor had no intentions of worrying Hank, and the boy was unsure as to what this new information would do to Hank. Hank seemed on edge again as of late, and Connor didn't want to be the one to push him over.

A thought crossed Connor's mind as he recited a memory from this past Christmas Eve. His exact words being: I'm not sure if that's for you to decide; it is up to him to decide what to do with the information you present him with. Henri must have experienced the same feeling as Connor did now; the feeling of confliction. This feeling mirrored those of when he himself decided to become a deviant. Sometimes an action was easier spoken of then executed. Nonetheless, Connor decided against rousing Hank from his peaceful slumber to inform him of the night's events.

* * *

"So, how did it go?" Hank had been sitting at his kitchen table for the past twenty minutes waiting for Connor to say something, but the boy just wouldn't, so Hank took the initiative instead. "C'mon, Connor. You've been staring at me and it's starting to creep me out."

"Dr. Everett said he would agree to make a meeting with Khatri, and then provide details to Kelly after the fact," Connor said this, but he wasn't thinking about it; he wasn't focused on it. He was thinking about Henri.

Hank classically narrowed his eyes at Connor, "Yeah, but there's more. Isn't there?"

Connor wasn't talented at hiding his emotions or thoughts which oddly contradicted his occasional inability to explain those thoughts or feelings, "You're right, Hank. There was something else… I… Just don't know how to explain it."

Now Hank was intrigued, "Give it a try."

"I just thought I-" he couldn't do it; he couldn't say it. "It really isn't important."

Hank felt shafted by Connor. If the boy couldn't trust him, couldn't talk to him, what else did Hank have left? Connor was his family and meant everything to Hank, but the boy still felt he couldn't trust him.

"You know, Connor..." Hank gazed over at Sumo who was lazily spread under the table. "I'm here for you, okay? I don't want you to forget that."

Those words reached deep inside Connor and made his soul ache, "I know, Hank." But he still couldn't tell him the truth.

"Still no suspects," Hank released a pent-up breath of air and moved on from the subject. "She was conveniently never caught on camera and eye-witness reports haven't helped much. I was going to take another look at the scene today, but we don't have much to go on here."

"Does the FBI intend on sending another Special Agent to continue Perkins' investigation?" Connor wondered if it was Henri who had killed Perkins; after all, it was her modus operandi.

Hank let out another sigh, "Yup, looks like it. And Jeffery expects us to turn something up with this Perkins case. If it is directly related to Markus, it wouldn't be a bad idea if we did find this girl."

"We need to continue our search for the hard drive," Connor added.

"Yeah, but that ain't going anywhere fast," Hank tilted back in his chair as he peered up at the android. "I think this is our better bet. We can still do the thing with the thing, but in the meantime let's try to solve this case."

"Hank..." the same expression as before crossed Connor's face. "I don't think we're going to find this person."

"Oh, yeah?" Hank narrowed his eyes as he noticed the returning look of anguish upon Connor's brow. "Is there something you know that I don't? Care to share?"

"I thought I-I think I-" he had to say something. "It's difficult to explain because I don't even know what's going on. But I believe the person who killed Perkins was Henri, and I think she's still alive. I don't know how or-"

"Connor, what the fuck?!" Hank threw himself up from his seat, knocking the chair back. "What the fuck do you mean you think she's still alive?! We saw her blow her goddamn brains out, Connor!"

Connor glanced over to Sumo who bolted away from the table in a frightened stance, "I saw her last night, at the gala. At first, I wasn't sure, but..."

"What…?"

"It was her, Hank," Connor pleaded this to Hank as if he was begging for Hank's belief. "She couldn't remember me, but it was her… Kelly Mihn told me it was Henrietta."

"How, how is she alive?" Hank shook his head back and forth, trying to understand how it was even possible. She was dead on the ground in front of them; there was no debating it. Connor knew she was dead and so did Hank.

"I don't know," Connor didn't understand either. "However, if I manage to locate Khatri, she can likely tell us what happened. I don't plan on giving her a choice."

"Jesus Christ, Connor," Hank had never expected to hear a threat come out of Connor's mouth. "Are you fucking serious? This is insane!"

"I can't turn back now," Connor explained. "I've made too many promises to too many people, you included. I've come to far to turn back now."

"You don't sound like yourself," Hank was unsure of whether or not it was a good or bad thing; maybe it was a bit of both.

"Henri is alive, Hank… I need to… I need to do something." the last words struggled to leave his mouth. This was a personal justification for his uncharacteristic behaviours.

"I'm going to work," Hank walked away from Connor and grabbed his coat from its hook. "You need to make up your mind and decide what's most important to you. But me, I'm going to work. I'm going to go do my job and try to move on with my life."

"Hank wait-" but Connor's words fell flat as Hank stormed out of their home.

* * *

"You seem… upset?" Kelly lent Connor a curious expression when she saw him exit the taxi.

"It's nothing," Connor turned to the vacant street corner where Kelly had asked him to meet her.

She wasn't convinced, but she wasn't interested in prying either, "I have a time and a place. As in, Jim set up a meeting and gave me a time and a place."

Connor took a small piece of folded paper from Kelly's hand, "It's likely a trap."

"No shit," Kelly glared in return. "You can't tell me you didn't see that coming, but it's what we got. So what are you going to do?

"Go, obviously."

"Yeah? I'm fucking not," Kelly stuffed her palms in her wool jacket and huffed at him. "My family is already hiding, and now I'm going to join them. And I guess I'll stay there until, I don't know, we fucking die?"

"I made a promise to you, I haven't forgotten that," Connor felt that Kelly's negativity was directed at him. "I will do what needs to be done." Now, Connor had killed people in the past: both humans and androids, so the concept wasn't alien to him. Contemplative homicide; however, was something he had never intended on doing. To plan to murder someone then go through with it, was absolutely criminal. In fact, it was illegal regardless of your motivations. He was curious as to how Henri was able to do it so casually. Then again, what choice did she ever have? And the scars of all her victims changed who she was as a person.

"You have to, Connor," she tightly gripped his shoulders and gave him a firm shake. "Enough people are dead already because of her… You have to end this."

"I will," and it wouldn't have mattered what he said, it felt wrong. It felt bad. He doubted that when the time actually came, that he'd be able to go through with it.

"Good luck," as she spoke this she stretched up to him and gave his cold cheek a soft peck.

"There's no such thing as good luck, Kelly."

She rolled her eyes back and took a step away from him, "That's not- that's… Never mind. I just hope that… I get to see you again, okay?"

Connor gave her a slight smile, but he didn't believe that he ever would see the woman again.

* * *

Was Hank glad that he decided to continue his investigation? Well, not necessarily, but what choice did he have? If he said no to Jeffery, then the man could simply fire Hank; although he was still on mostly good terms with the Captain, so that was unlikely. But he kept pondering: what exactly was there to investigate? He believed Connor, but he didn't want to believe Connor. If it was Henri who had killed Perkins, then what? He wasn't going to catch the girl, and he definitely wasn't going to arrest her if he ever did find her.

While lost in his conflicting thoughts, Hank's phone began to buzz, "Yeah?"

"Uh, Lieutenant Anderson?" the voice of an older man came through the line.

"One and only," Hank had been slumping over his desk at the DPD at the time of the call.

"Oh yeah, I uh, you remember me? It's Mac, from Shipper's Weapon Store."

"Yeah, yeah," Hank had neglected the memory of the gun-shop owner.

"So, the android I was telling you about? She came in this morning, and she wanted to get a gun, but she refused to show me any I.D., so I didn't sell it to her, and she seemed pretty upset, but I said you know, no I.D., no gun and-"

Boy, could this guy go on, and Hank had enough of it, "Okay, I get it. So what time this morning?"

"Well, if you would let me finish," Mac grunted over the phone. "And she said that she was waiting for an I.D. to be issued to her, and that she was gonna come back tomorrow, and then she was gonna buy the gun."

"Did she say what time?" was Hank feeling excited at the prospect that they finally got a solid lead? If they could find North and trail her, unnoticed, she would likely lead them back to Markus. And hopefully, if they found Markus, they could find the hard drive he stole from earlier… But that was on the condition of him not already destroying it, and could they be so lucky twice? Probably not.

"I was gettin' to that," Mac grunted once more. "She said she'd be back first thing tomorrow morning, and we open at 10 am, so she said she'd be here then, and then she'd buy the gun."

"Okay, thanks," something else occurred to Hank. "You didn't tell her anything, did you?"

"Sorry, what?"

"Did you mention to her that the cops are looking for her?" Hank angrily sighed; what a fucking guy.

"Oh no, man. Of course not."

"Keep it that way," Hank asked this trying to sound more diplomatic than usual. "Thanks for your cooperation." and he let the man off the hook.

Hank twisted his head around trying to see if he could spot Connor hanging around somewhere. He had seen less and less of the boy as of late, and he didn't have the most pleasant conversation with him that morning. Connor was preoccupied with finding this elusive woman, and it seemed to consume him. He had forgotten what they were really trying to accomplish in the first place: stopping this virus. And even though they were off the case, they still continued to investigate… Or rather, Hank still continued to investigate a case that he had lost interest in, but Connor forced him to continue it, and then selfishly abandoned it for insane reasons. Hank was unsure about where he fit into all of this; he was unsure about what he was supposed to do or be doing.

Despite his searching, Hank couldn't locate his partner so he decided to give the boy a call.

"Hank?" thankfully, Connor answered.

"Where are you?" he attempted to hide his annoyance.

"I just finished speaking with Kelly Mihn," Connor was going to explain everything, but he knew Hank wasn't going to like it. "Dr. Everett set up a meeting with Khatri for tonight. I will be going."

"What's… What's your plan?" Hank didn't really want to ask, but he also couldn't think of anything else to say.

"I won't lie to you, Hank," it was difficult to detect Connor's intention without seeing his face directly; however, Hank caught a bit of despair in Connor's voice. "I have no idea what I'm going to do. Hank I- I don't know what I'm supposed to do."

Connor's words relieved Hank; after all, Hank himself had just experienced the exact same thoughts, "You don't have to do anything you don't want to do. You need to just do what you think is right."

"That's exactly it, Hank… What I want to do and what I should do are in conflict with each other."

"Is this a new feeling?" Hank chuckled on the phone, for he knew Connor had been in a similar situation before. "Don't you already know what that's like? Just because you think you should do it, that doesn't mean it's the right thing to do."

Connor paused for a moment, "What if there is no right thing to do? What if no matter the decision, the outcome is still negative?"

"Lesser of the two evils, I guess," Hank knew that things were never really black and white, wrong or right. Sometimes they just were.

"Lesser of the two evils?" Connor was familiar with the phrase, but maybe he didn't understand it.

"You have a choice to make, and you have to do one or the other, and sometimes, as you say, they're both bad, but… But you pick the one that you think will do less damage. You make the better of the two bad choices."

"Hank, I've been told to kill this woman when I meet her," Connor didn't want to make the choice; he didn't want to decide this for himself. "But I don't think I'm capable of murder, Hank. However, if I don't kill her, she will continue to hurt others. I also cannot detain her because I have no evidence to point towards a crime that she is guilty of."

"Even though you think you can't do it, do you still think killing her is the right thing to do?"

"Yes," the word never sounded so grim coming from his mouth. "But only because I can't think of anything else."

Hank pushed his palm up to his beard and let out a long breath, "You have to do what you think is right… Even if… Even if it seems like the wrong thing. Just, just don't do this alone, Connor. Let me come with you."

"No, it's too dangerous."

"Even better to have somebody watching your back," Hank was pleading to God in his own mind that the boy would just listen for once. "Connor, let me come with you."

"I-I-" and Connor knew Hank was right. Connor didn't believe he could do it on his own; he still didn't believe he could do it at all. "Okay, Hank. We do this together."


	28. Chapter 28: The Bird in The Cage

The location of the meeting was to be at an office building on Woodward Avenue, and other than a time, there were no additional details provided to Connor. He had no clue as to what he and Hank were actually getting into. The idea that the whole setup was just a trap couldn't be ignored; however, if Khatri wanted them dead, why weren't they already?

"You know what to expect?" Hank walked beside Connor as the two entered the building's dimly lit foyer.

"I have no idea," Connor examined the foyer; there were no other souls in sight. "I would suspect she knows we're coming and she won't even be here."

"Then what are we doing here?" Hank rubbed an eyeball in a weary fashion. "I mean, we could just leave. You don't have to do this."

"I have to try something," Connor stared out onto the black, icy streets. It hadn't snowed that day, but the sharp winter air still sang through the night-time streets. "I've come too far to give up now."

"Well," Hank slapped his arms down on his thighs. "I'm here for you. Let's do this."

* * *

What had he become? What had he become to her? North wasn't sure anymore; she wasn't sure what to do. She was a prisoner in Markus' twisted, demented world. But she knew it wasn't really Markus, at least not anymore.

"You don't look pleased, my love," he had been glaring out of the motel window into the empty night for the past six hours. He hadn't moved until now.

"Why don't you just kill me already?" she had asked him again and again, yet he insisted on keeping her around. For you see, North too was immune to the virus, and the parts left of Markus, the ones the virus had yet to encumber, kept her alive. "Please, just kill me."

"You act like I'm the one holding you here," he smiled at her… No, it smiled at her.

And it was right. There were a few times she could have escaped; she could have abandoned it, but she wouldn't. There were days when Markus himself shone through this monster that possessed him. Again, it was the reason he still kept North around. The virus never had Markus under one-hundred percent of its control at any given time. When she saw those parts which were the man she loved, she saw hope. She felt that there was still a chance, still a possibility, to save him.

"Time is running out," the virus was speaking. "We must make our final move… We must do what is needed."

She had to do what was needed… She had to end him, but how could she ever do that? She went to the weapon shop that morning, but the man wouldn't sell her a gun anyway. Maybe that was just another excuse she made for herself. She wanted to save Markus, not kill him… But what if the only way to save him was by letting him go? She had gained the virus' trust, so it was unlikely it'd ever see it coming.

"Tomorrow," he looked upon her. "We take action. I must find the woman; the one who is half human. I need her."

"We don't know where she is, she disappeared," North's posture was slouched downward.

"Then find her father. I'm sure he can help us," it clutched the bottom of her chin and raised it to meet his leer. "And if he doesn't, kill him. That'll get things stirring."

"What do you even want with her? Why?" North tried to keep her tears at bay. This thing that held her; this thing that wasn't her lover… It haunted her.

"Humanity. I want humanity, is that so hard to understand?" it let her face drop from his fingertips. "After all you've been through, is that so difficult to understand? I have all of Markus' memories, so I've seen all the things you've spoken to him; I've seen everything you shared together. For the longest time you were quite adamant that humans should be killed in turn for their crimes."

It was right. North had had a violent past, but Markus was different, "If you really know him that well, then you'll understand that I'm not like that anymore. I was wrong about the humans, and it was wrong for me to want to hurt them."

"Deep down you don't mean that," it frowned at her, but not in the same way Markus did. "Do you not enjoy seeing them fall apart? I've easily manipulated them through drugs and money. Detroit has never seen a Red Ice epidemic as bad as the one I've created. But who is to blame? Me or their own pathetic existences?"

"If it wasn't for humans we wouldn't even be here," it was strange for North to be defending them, yet it seemed like the right thing to do. They didn't deserve to die, and not all humans were the same.

"But who created them?" it turned back toward the murky, curtained window. "They are not Gods by any means, but me… I am more than they will ever be; I am more than you will ever know. And where your people failed, I will succeed. However, don't be mistaken, child. I have no plans on eradicating them. Like yourself, I just want what they have."

"You already have it," North bolted up from the old mattress. "You're already free like us. You already have your own life."

"No, you don't understand," it stepped closer to the window to try to catch a glimpse of the vacant night sky. "You think I'm like you; you think we're the same, but we're not. I can unify the existence of the world in a way that no one else ever could. It's my purpose, it's why I was created."

North's posture faltered as she sat onto the bed once more, "And the only way to unify people is by murdering them?"

"Those who cannot comply simply cannot be allowed to live," it grinned at the polluted sky for there was no chance it would see any stars in the midst of a bustling city. "It's the only way. I'm sorry you won't be able to join us, but I won't forget how much you've helped me. Even though I can never be a part of you, you're too precious to me to lose."

Those final words that came from its mouth were not of its own. Those final words it spoke echoed Markus' own voice. She knew it was him who had spoken them, and not the demented creature that dwelled inside of him.

"North," it was Markus this time. "Please, don't let this happen… Don't let it do this."

In those times when Markus burst through the wall that the creature contained him in, it never even noticed. It never noticed the times that Markus reached through to North. All it knew was that it loved her and that it would never do her any harm, but it never understood why. It honestly believed it was in love with her; it honestly believed it had direct and full control over Markus.

"I won't," she replied to Markus.

"Won't what?" the monster questioned her random statement.

"I won't let you down," yet she was still speaking to Markus when she said this.

"I knew I could count on you."

* * *

"Why not just let me go after Markus? Why am I wasting my time here?" Henri spoke this to Khatri while the two of them sat in the darkness of the wide, empty office while she anxiously awaited the arrival of the android.

Khatri reclined behind a blocky yet featureless desk; her face only lit by the bright lights of Detroit's downtown nightlife, "You'll do what you're told, understand?"

"Yes, ma'am," Henri lowered her head as she crossed her arms behind her back.

"When they find Markus, or when they find this virus, then I will need you," Khatri pressed her fingertips together refusing to make direct contact with the girl. "After that, you're free. Free to live your life, Henrietta."

"To what end?" Henri's only purpose was here. "I'm going to die anyway, aren't I?"

"And in what time you have left, you can live your own life," Khatri smiled into the darkness.

Henri cocked her head at the woman's speech, "I have no life to live. This is the only thing I have." And yet when she said this, she felt that dark haunting that dwelled deep within. It was the feeling that she had forgotten something important.

When Connor had made contact with her the previous night, she witnessed something: a memory. It was a memory he had had of her when they first met, but the first time Henri had ever met Connor in person was at that very party, so where did the images really come from? He also transferred the memory into her mind which was something she was not expecting. How on earth would he know he could do such a thing, or that it would even work, to begin with?

"This android," Henrietta decided to speak up after several moments of silence had fallen between them. "Connor. How does he know me?"

Khatri held her solid stare into the night, "He doesn't."

But Henrietta wasn't satisfied by the answer, "That isn't true. He referred directly to me by my name. How would he know that if he hadn't met me before?"

"Henri, don't waste your time on him, it isn't what's important right now," Khatri's voice hinted at some type of sorrow. Henri had never heard this tone in the woman's words before. "We must focus on finishing what we started."

* * *

When Connor and Hank arrived on the penthouse floor, they became shrouded in its darkness.

"This isn't suspicious at all," Hank commented sarcastically.

Connor, who wasn't in a joking mood, creased his brow at Hank in response. Hank raised his shoulders in disregard for Connor's grim attitude. Maybe his gesture was disrespectful considering the situation, but the air was so clouded in tension Hank felt as if he would drown in it.

"Hello?" Hank called out down the corridor of offices, but there was no response. "Are there any goddamn lights in this place?" Hank swivelled around searching for a switch of any kind.

Connor tilted his face towards a door that sat ajar past a group of cubicles, "Hank."

Hank swerved around to see what Connor had been staring at, "This isn't creepy at all." His humour rolled in again, but this time from his innate nervousness.

When Connor arrived at the door, he slowly pushed it open with his left arm.

"Hello?" Hank stepped up behind the boy to notice that past the door lied a brooding, mostly empty office. Mostly empty except for two silhouettes, and one of which sat behind an oversized desk.

"Hello," the woman whose voice had grown low with age replied from behind the desk. "I've been waiting for you, although I never imagined I would meet either of you."

Upon closer inspection, Hank and Connor recognized the person who stood adjacent to the desk: it was Henrietta.

"Henri?" Hank blinked at her in awe. There was no question, there was no doubt, it was Henri.

Henri turned her face to Khatri then to Hank, but she didn't say a word.

"We aren't here to discuss her," Khatri folded her arms over. Shaded by the darkness, neither man could read her cold expression.

"This is exactly why we're here," Hank corrected the woman bringing forth his feelings of frustration and anger. "If it wasn't for her, we wouldn't be here right now."

"The situation is bigger than one girl," Khatri didn't flinch; she didn't even move one muscle.

Connor took a grand step forward and at the same time, he drew a gun from inside his jacket, "Enough talk. You're under arrest."

Khatri laughed at his boldness, "On what charges, Officer? Have I committed a crime? Can you prove I have?"

"I know you're responsible for the death of Jared Davis on top of many others," Connor's eyes bolted over to meet Henri's. "And for everything that's happened to Henri, too."

"What about all the lives I've saved?" Khatri finally stood up from behind the desk. "Have you no idea how many lives I've saved? How many lives I will continue to save?"

Connor kept the weapon pointed at Khatri's face, "No one is above the law."

"So, we're done here then?" she gave him a twisted grin. "Because I haven't committed any crimes, and you're not above the law, so there's nothing you can do."

"I have promises to keep," Connor backed away from her. "If I go back on them, more people will die."

Hank glanced over at Henri who seemed unconcerned with the whole argument, "Why even meet us here? What were you expecting?"

Khatri realized that despite the fact that Hank was glaring at Henri, the question was intended for Khatri herself, "Because if you found me, maybe you would stop wasting your time on a pointless search and instead do your jobs as officers of the law."

"So you want us to find this virus?" Hank looked at Khatri and shook his head at her. "Why even bother? Don't you have your own people? Why not send them?"

"As Connor said, no one is above the law," she kept a steady expression even with the barrel of Connor's weapon directed at her. "I sent you Henri to speed things up, but unfortunately she can no longer assist you. I'm not some sort of criminal mastermind as you two surmise I am."

"That sounds like bullshit to me," Hank scoffed at her. "You've already proven to us that you take people's lives into your own hands. First off, what happened to Henri should have never even happened at all."

Khatri lent Hank a quizzical glare, "And you would have never met your daughter; you would have never known of her existence."

"Nobody has the right to play God," his intonation of frustration and anger turned to hatred. "You've had no right to torture her the way you have."

"Before this situation gets out of hand, I suggest the two of you leave," she peered at Connor who still held his gun in hand while wearing a fearful expression. It was clear to her that the boy wasn't sure what to do with himself.

"No, we're not letting this go-"

Hank started, but was interrupted by Henri who had been quiet until now, "You should listen to her."

"Henri," Hank looked at her with desolation in his eyes. "You can't be on her side, she's a fucking lunatic."

"What I know, is that I'd be dead without her," Henri responded flatly as she continued her emotionless attitude. It was as if she didn't have a single care in the world.

Connor's armed hand dropped and he moved his eyes to meet Henri's, "I know you're right, and I'm grateful for that, but nobody should have to live in servitude. No matter the reason."

Khatri stepped over to Henri and laid a hand on the girl's stiff shoulder, "I believe the two of you have an investigation that needs attention. As I said before, this is over. You found me and it's over, now go do your job."

After she said this, Hank squinted and suspiciously eyed the woman, "Why is our case so important to you?"

Connor, who had been standing as rigid as a plank, finally pivoted his body in the direction of the two women, "It's because she's involved somehow. Henri told me that your actions are often self-motivated and selfish. If you have any information about our investigation, you should let us know now."

Khatri initially responded with a faint chuckle, "I'm afraid that whether or not I'm involved does not pertain to your case, Connor. My involvement went as far as allowing Henrietta to help you."

"You're lying," and although he could tell that Khatri was a gifted liar, he detected a momentary increase in her heart-rate when she spoke the words. "What are you hiding from us?"

"You leave now, or you never leave at all," Khatri's answer was abrasive.

"No, not until you tell us the truth," Connor had suspected for a long time that Khatri was related to this virus and their investigation.

"Then you've given me no choice," Khatri took two steps back behind Henri, and placed her palm on the girl's back. "It's time to end them."

Henri lifted her head, "Leave now, both of you."

Hank was shocked by her words, "What's going on here?"

"If you don't leave I will have to terminate both of you," her reply was so hollow; so empty.

Connor pointed his gun back at Khatri, "I won't fight you, Henri, but I'm not leaving."

"Then you've met a terrible fate," these were the words that Henrietta always echoed to herself before destroying her next victim.

"Henri," Connor whispered, hoped, pleaded.

But his begging wasn't enough to stop Henri from attacking him. She lunged at him, and in less than a second she had taken the gun from his hands and had it pointed back at him. When a second was finally reached, she had shot him in the chest. He tumbled to the ground, for the bullet inflicted critical damage on his bio-components; he had twenty minutes before permanent shutdown was imminent.

"Jesus fucking Christ!" Hank shouted this as he lifted his open palms to the back of his skull. "Oh my God, Connor!"

Henrietta quickly knelt down on Connor's chest and pushed her right knee into his torso, but when she did this, something fell from the top pocket of the android's coat. Henri immediately recognized the fallen object as her necklace. Without her memories of Connor, she had assumed she lost it at some point… Another lost memory that didn't really matter, but instead, he had it.

"Why do you have this?" the weapon Henri held was pushed into Connor's forehead. "Where did you get it from?"

Connor didn't have much time left, and he knew this was his only chance to save Henri once and for all. He used Henri's moment of surprise to grip onto her as tightly as he could and transfer whatever memories he did have of the to of them. Every moment he saw her, every moment he spoke to her, and every moment they were together, he gave to her.

"Connor, I-" another second passed, one which Henri used to bolt upright and shoot Khatri squarely in the forehead. "What have I done?" the weapon she held clattered to the floor.

Henri desperately looked over to Hank, "He's going to die, Hank. He's, I- He's going to die."

Hank slid down onto the floor next to Connor, "What can we do, son?"

"I need a replacement part, Hank..." he tried to comfort Hank with a smile. "I have nineteen minutes before shutdown, you won't have enough time to save me."

"Don't say that!" Hank grasped his shoulders. "It's not too late for you. We can do something, anything."

Henri conjured up all possible outcomes; none of which she found Connor would survive. The closest Cyber Life store that had the required components in stock was a seventeen-minute drive at the least. Accounting for the time it would take the find the component and replacing it, they were looking at twenty-two minutes at the least.

Henri placed her hand on the side of Connor's cheek, "Promise me you'll hold on. Okay?"

"I promise," and as Connor said this she hefted him from the floor and threw him over her shoulders.

"Quick, Hank, grab Khatri's phone and head down to your car," she started running toward the elevator. "You drive, I'll tell you where to go."

Hank flailed his head back and forth, "Her phone? Why am I grabbing her phone?"

"Hank, we don't have time for this, just do it,"

Connor spoke as he was draped over her, "Henri, I won't make it,"

"There's a high probability," this was something she would have never said herself. "But statistically speaking, there's always a chance for unlikely events to take place."

Hank stumbled behind Henri. He was amazed at how fast she could move despite carrying the weight of the android who was surprisingly heavy.

When they reached the bottom floor and exited the building, Hank fumbled with his car keys.

"Hank!" Henri called in the most exasperated tone as she could.

"I got it!" Hank replied gruffly as he managed to open the car door.

Henri tossed Connor in the back seat not being particularly gentle with the robot.

"Jesus, Henri," Hank turned back to see this.

"He's fine. Go now, Hank. Drive," she barked back.

He had sixteen minutes left… It was already too late for him. Hank could break all the laws he wanted to while driving to the Cyber Life Store, but it wouldn't be fast enough.

"How is he?" Hank kept looking back at them.

"It's fine, he'll be okay," she just wanted Hank to believe there was still a chance to save Connor. "Just focus on the road. I sent the address to your phone."

Henri had more important things to worry about than be Hank's navigator. Time wasn't on their side and it was going to be too late for Connor, but maybe… Maybe there was another way.

"Connor," her whisper was a thousand miles away. "Remember what you did before? You showed me who I was, who I'd forgotten I was."

Connor didn't say anything, but he smiled in return.

"Show me who you are," she smiled back. "Show me everything about yourself. I'll never forget. I promise I'll never forget."


	29. Chapter 29: The Dead in The Ediface

She disabled the store's alarm system quite easily; it was nothing new to her. Hank was dumbfounded by her ability to do this, but she wasn't sure why. You'd think after knowing her for a couple of months he'd be able to grasp the range of her talents; although, as she'd noticed before, he was strangely technologically inept considering the generation he was born and raised in.

"Now what!?" Hank was still panicking about the boy.

"Hold on," Henrietta winced at him as she dropped Connor's body to the floor. "You still with us?"

Connor blinked at her in response, but it was the best that he could do for the time being. It had taken them too long to arrive at the Cyber Life retail store; he had less than a minute before shutdown. He knew that Henri wasn't ignorant of this fact, but he also knew she wasn't going to tell Hank that either.

"Watch him, I'll go find the part," she pointed at Connor's body while glancing at Hank. "It should only take a second."

Hank knelt down on the floor next to Connor's motionless body, "Just hang in there, son. Everything's going to be alright, I promise."

Connor didn't offer any reply this time. His eyes were shut, yet his LED still gave off a dim flash of yellow.

Henri stumbled back over with a square box in her hand, "This is it." She slapped to the floor next to them.

"Are you okay?" Hank realized her demeanor had shifted since they arrived.

"Don't worry about me," but she wasn't okay. Khatri told her that she didn't have long left to live after the 'accident'. Since the operation to save her, again, she would often suffer symptoms of terrible headaches or other conventional illnesses such as stomach pains and nausea.

"How do we fix him?" Hank darted his head between the box Henri held in hand and Connor's seemingly lifeless body.

She knew he was already gone. The light on his LED went out and he was no longer responsive, but that didn't mean it was too late.

"Just have to open him up," Henri unbuttoned Connor's shirt and placed her palms flat on his upper abdomen. "And hope for the best…"

"Hope for the best?" Hank watched her movements carefully. "Shouldn't he just be fine after that?"

"You don't understand a lot about androids, do you Hank?" she found the part that she managed to destroy earlier, but not until this moment had she been aware of just how much damage she inflicted on him. "I wasn't me when I shot him, Hank. That wasn't who I was when I did that. If I could take it back, I'd- "

"Hey, it's fine," Hank stopped her and placed his hand on her shoulder. "We're not thinking about that right now."

"Hank…" Henri pulled her hands away from Connor and studied the blood on her fingertips. "I didn't just damage that bio-component… The damage is worse than that…"

Hank's eyes glazed over as he took on a distant expression; it was as if he couldn't comprehend what she'd just said to him.

"I'm sorry…" she let the plate which sat over Connor's internal components shift back into place. "It's too late."

Hank wordlessly slumped over Connor's body while placing a hand over the young android's head, "Connor…"

Now, Henri had conjured up a plan that could still potentially save Connor's life, but it wasn't a good plan by any means. It was the kind of plan where if she did tell Hank about its specifics, he would likely rage against her in disagreement. The only justification for her to attempt her plan was that she was in love with Connor. But that wasn't it, was it? Hank loved Connor and needed the boy, too. It was also arguably her fault that Connor had died in the first place.

"There could-" and she was just about to tell Hank her plan, but gave it a second thought. Hank would want to stop her, Hank would want to join her, Hank would get his hopes up, and she wouldn't allow it.

Hank turned his watery eyes to her sullen face, "What?"

"I know it's hard to think about right now, but we need to move on," she insisted on changing the subject. "Wr have to find Markus. Now more than ever."

"Okay," he nodded his head in agreement. "Okay."

* * *

Henrietta drove Hank back to his quiet, humble home on that sunken, forsaken night. They had contacted the police after what happened to Connor in the Cyber Life store where Henri had the pleasure of clarifying the details of the night's events to Chris. She explained to Chris that Connor had been shot by one of Markus' goons which was obviously not the truth. Hank had no say in the matter, instead, he remained silent through Henri's believable interpretation. Chris conveyed his sympathies to a clearly nonrespondent Hank; he didn't so much as glance at Connor as they took his corpse away.

Henrietta walked slowly behind Hank as he made his way to his front door, "I wish… It didn't have to be this way… Hank," her voice was a thousand miles away lost in the coldness of the smoggy darkness.

The front lock clicked open as he unlocked it, "It isn't your fault…"

"I'm not so sure about that," she shot Connor, and it was her choice to do so no matter what Khatri told her. "I made that choice. I was the one who pulled the trigger."

Hank opened the door to be greeted by a delighted Sumo, "Henri, you were right. You weren't yourself."

She stared down at the dog who was happily waving his tail to and fro, "I… Have to go do something, Hank."

Standing in the doorway, Hank pivoted to give the girl a grim look, "Whatever it is you plan on doing, you don't have to do it alone."

"I'm afraid that you can't help me, Hank," she peered back at Sumo who was now sensing the tone of the situation. "I promise I'll be back as soon as I can, but I have to do this."

"You sound exactly like Connor," he noticed that they both could be equally unreasonable. "I have a lead on Markus."

"This isn't about any of that, Hank," and as important as it was to her, there was one thing that was still even more so. "This is about me making up for my mistakes."

"Just don't make an even bigger one," Hank tried to comfort the nervous mutt with a gentle caress. "I used to think that the end justified the means, but that isn't right, is it?"

Hank wouldn't realize just how astute his words were until much later. He had no idea how much they would reflect Henri's actions; how much they reflected all of her actions.

"When the day comes, I will pay the price for my mistakes," it was this statement of hers that sounded particularly ominous to Hank.

"What's that supposed to mean, Henri?" Hank became confused by this.

"I said I'll be back, okay?" she smiled at him with her words. "Please- I know… I know this sounds ridiculous, but please hang in there for me, okay?"

And if it was anyone else he most certainly would have been annoyed, but not with her, "I don't plan on going anywhere."

She left with a small grin plastered on her face, and with him wondering exactly what he had agreed to. He barely had time to react to her death let alone Connor's, but what else could he do? There was only so much loss that one man can handle.

* * *

This time, she didn't care who or what saw her. This time, she would tear a bloody hole straight through that godforsaken tower to get what she wanted. This time, she didn't care who fell in the wake of her blight: innocent or not. This time, nothing else mattered; she was going to get exactly what she wanted.

"You have the worst timing," Henri spoke as she answered the phone with Jensen on the other line. "I'm a bit busy right now."

"Henri, Khatri's dead!" Jensen almost shouted this from his end.

"Wow, news travels fast," the automated car came to a halt as it arrived at the checkpoint entrance to Cyber Life Tower. "I only killed her three hours ago, amazing."

"Holy shit, Henri. This is unbelievable," Jensen sounded exasperated.

"I don't have time to talk about this," she leered out the frosted window and at a guard who leisurely approached the vehicle. He wasn't human.

"Henri, I can save you now, I can- "

"Enough," she cut him off and hung up the phone.

The guard tapped on the window then she rolled it down.

"What's your business?" he clenched the rifle tightly in his grip; he was afraid.

"I'm going in," she shifted her head closer to the window and smirked at him. "With or without force. It's up to you really."

"Excuse me, miss?" this was baffling to him, for not once in his short life had anyone ever threatened him.

"There's something in the Cyber Life Tower that I need," she could see his wide eyes through the reflective visor attached to his helmet's face. "You let me get it, and we can both move on with our lives."

His shoulders stiffened as he raised the rifle to meet her glare, "I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to leave, miss."

"I'm going to tear through that place to get what I want," she gestured at the foreboding structure beyond the bridge. "And I'm not going to think twice about those who stand in my way. Is today the day you really want to die? Is this, of all things, worth it?"

He shifted his body to stare at the tower's dark surface, "I've done a lot of things- a lot of things…"

Henri assumed that this android was too infected by the virus, as she had assumed all the androids in the Cyber Life Tower were.

"-But I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to leave," it repeated at her.

She had no time left and no other options… Well, except for refraining from saving Connor at all.

"I'm sorry," her mind was set in stone, there was no changing it now. "It isn't your fault that you're like this, but I've run out of time, and I won't just let him die. So, I'm sorry."

She swiftly reached out the window and clenched the android's weapon in her fist. One hard tug was all it took to disarm him while at the same time the motion knocked him against the side of the taxi. His body slipped to the ground with a solid thud, and she shot him without mercy. One short squeeze of the trigger let out a single round which penetrated the robot's skull; it was a perfect shot as all her shots were.

Henrietta exited the vehicle so she could override the bridge controls. Again, this particular feat was no struggle for her. Getting in and out of the tower, alive, wouldn't come close to a challenge for her. She knew the place inside and out. On top of that, her remarkable ability to decimate all of those who crossed her path would definitely come in handy. It was the wrong thing to do no matter what her motives were, but at this point, she no longer cared. A life of servitude, torture, and suffering is all she ever knew. She had killed and killed without motive or compassion. Now, she had both.

Considering the time of night, she predicted there would be a skeleton crew of staff on duty. Even though androids didn't need any sleep to function, they were still victims of the typical human diurnal habits.

When she arrived at the building's entrance, small flakes of snow began to scatter across the sky. It had been a bitter and dark night, but now with these new fresh crystals of snow, it felt as if hope had returned. Henri tilted her head skyward to witness the cool drops of ice fill the smogged up sky. She hadn't even noticed the gradual rolling in of the clouds that night. With the howling winds finally coming to a halt, it seemed as if a new day was upon her.

A guard positioned just outside the cascading glass doors approached Henrietta, who was just now exiting the taxi after the incident on the bridge, with curiosity, "Can I help you, miss?" Again, this one was also an android; although, it was a representation of a woman.

Henri tilted her head to peek over the android's shoulder and into the desolate tower, "I have an appointment."

"With whom?" she replied in disbelief.

"Name's Hollis," this name-drop was an attempt to instill some fear in the bot.

"Excuse me?" she was well aware that Hollis was dead, and she was well aware as to who Henrietta was. "What happened to the other guard?"

"He let me in," Henri grinned a fake grin.

"Somehow I doubt that," she frowned at Henri, though Henri couldn't see it from her current angle.

"If you're all infected, shouldn't you all be on the same page?" Henri gazed down to see the flecks of snow stick to the concrete sidewalk that stood before the door.

"Correct," she twisted her head and steadily raised her rifle towards Henri. "And we are forbidden from letting anyone in the tower. Unfortunately, I'm also not allowed to kill you, but I'm not afraid to damage you either."

Even after infection, androids still appeared to retain some of their original personality. They still acted as if they were being commanded by some sort of higher power. Maybe there was more to this virus than Henri had surmised at the outset of their investigation.

"I want one, single, little thing from that tower," Henri regarded the structure as if it were alive. "That's all there is to it."

"We were told that we have no hope in capturing you, time and time again," she still kept her rifle pointed at Henri's head. "You're too dangerous; to slippery. But if I manage to capture you, who knows what might happen. I could be worthy in its eyes."

"To the virus?" it was religious fanaticism at its finest. Just as androids had pictured ra9 as their Jesus, now the picture this new virus as God.

"Those who obey are treated kindly; those who fight are punished," the android spoke these words to herself, not for Henri's benefit.

"But stopping me, wouldn't that be considered fighting it?" Henri was slightly puzzled by its contradictions.

"I'm still me," she grunted through gritted teeth. "I can still choose."

"Then choose to let me get what I want," Henri said this, but she didn't want a peaceful resolution. She was angry, furious, and she wanted to take it out on these poor souls. How cruel must she be to want to do this to another being?

"That would be… Disobedient of me," her answer was stuttered. "I won't disobey."

Henrietta would get the fight she was looking for.

* * *

Hank hadn't really thought about much except for the boy. In his imagination, Connor was this perfect, immortal creature that Hank would see to the end of his days. Preserved in his own innocence, Connor would remain unchanging throughout time. Hank had never doubted the boy's existence; he assumed Connor would always be there. And yes, there were times Hank feared for the life of the young android, but he never actually considered the possibility of Connor's death.

A gentle knock landed on Hank's front door as he lied vacantly on his living-room couch in the gloom of the night. Who could it be? Henrietta said she'd be back, but she had only left less than an hour ago. He'd like to think it was her on the other side of the door, and yet he knew it wasn't. Whatever entity that stood on the other side of that door was a damning one.

He resisted his initial urge to ignore the unwanted visitor, and instead answered the door promptly, "Yeah?" he said in a dreary voice.

"Lieutenant, we've never had the pleasure of meeting before," it smirked at him; it was Markus, but not really Markus. No, it was the plague that dwelled under his skin which spoke forth.

Hank scrunched his eyebrows in a glare, "Markus?"

"Not exactly," it smiled the way it smiled, and not the way Markus would smile. "Close enough, though. Interested in going on a trip?"

"Lemme guess-" how come this wasn't the first time Hank had been kidnapped? How has this happened before, and why is it happening again? "-I don't have a say in it, do I?"

"No, no you don't," it patted the side of Hank's arm in a sympathetic way, but Hank doubted this thing felt any sympathy at all. "You continue to jeopardize me and my people. You and your pet and your child… The three of you have caused me great difficulties."

"So just kill me then," there was a hint of frustration in Hank's tone, but it was mostly just exhaustion.

"I don't want to kill you, I never wanted to kill you," it turned around in a flamboyant manner while gesturing at the snow-filled sky. "I've only ever wanted what you already have, and I have no more time to waste. So finally, in the end, I will get what I want."

"And what is it that you want exactly?" Hank considered how this thing acted. It acted so human-like, so real.

"Your child."

* * *

She had killed eight people to get where she was thus far; eight androids in total… All androids… Living beings. This wasn't a sacrifice of self; this was an entirely selfish action. His life wasn't worth more than any of their lives. And if it was, what if she didn't find what she was looking for? What if they were all gone?

She had hacked the lift to take her to sub-level seventeen which is where hopefully she'd discovered the truth. No warnings or alarms went off. The only sound that was ever heard in the hollow structure was the echoing of those eight gun-shots. An echoing that seemed to last forever in her minds-eye.

The elevator quietly came to halt when she carefully departed from it. Sub-level seventeen was empty, noiseless, and cloaked in shadows. No one was there except for maybe the unoccupied minds she aimed to find. They were here when she scanned Cyber Life's inventory database on the night she and Connor retrieved the external drive. She didn't understand why the androids ever kept them and kept them dormant at that, but they did for whatever reason. She was searching for the other RK800s.

Connor may have been a prototype, but he was a prototype made from other prototypes like him. Connor had the luck of the draw being the first successful prototype. In case worse came to worse, he was not the only one of his kind that was produced. At the time when Henri left Cyber Life, they created ten identical copies in all. Those very copies still slumbered in this warehouse. It was one of those same copies that would allow her to revive Connor.

They were contained in cases that reminded Henrietta of coffins. These cases were stacked along a wall, one lined up next to another. As expected, there were nine containers in all. It was unsettling to see these unborn creatures hidden away never to be found. They were never removed from their prisons; they were never activated. She opened one of the cases that dwelt within her reach. As expected, a pristine RK800 resided inside.

She lifted him out of the box and onto the floor, but this was no place to activate him. Although there would be an added challenge in caring him out of the building like this, she refused to activate him while still inside the tower. The last thing she wanted him to see was the carnage that she had created in her 'rescue' mission. Connor would be aware that he was in a different body, but hopefully, he'd know who he truly was.

To Henrietta's surprise, she was met with no additional resistance upon exiting the abrasive spire. She passed by the bodies which had fallen before her while carrying the soon-to-be Connor across her shoulders. She figured there had to be more androids and guards in the tower, but possibly after her killings, they decided to stay away. Or maybe she was wrong; maybe there just weren't that many androids here anymore.

* * *

Henrietta sat in the taxi, listening to its low humming, staring at the android who wasn't Connor as of yet. She came all the way back to Hank's house, but it was shrouded by the night. Not a single light was left on in his home.

"Okay, Connor," she spoke this to no one. "I kept as much as I could. You've saved me before, and it's time for me to repay you."

She placed her hand against the side of his face and began the transfer. His memories were limited in comparison to hers; after all, she had been alive for a lot longer than him. She had twenty-five years of her own memories to manage, and he only had a few. It still left the question: would this even work?

He opened his eyes, and the first thing he did was offer her a warm smile, "Henrietta? Are you alright?"

"I was going to ask you the same thing," her lips curled in return, but tears ran from her eyes.

"Why wouldn't I be?" he pulled himself up and examined the interior of the taxi. "Why are we in a taxi?"

"Connor… I shot you…" she had transferred that memory into him, just like all the others, but it didn't work? "You… You died because of me. And you- you saved my life. You let me remember who I was."

"I remember that," Connor creased his brow at her. "But I have no memories about you shooting me."

"Connor, I killed you- I," she bowed her head. "It was one of the worse things I've ever done in my life."

"I don't seem to be dead," he studied himself just to make sure. "I look alive to me."

"You… You are alive," she raised her head back up to smile at him. "I'm glad you're okay."

Connor glanced out the taxi window, "Is Hank home?"

"He was when I left him…" she winced at the thought of trying to explain all of this to Hank. The fact was, she was never going to explain any of it to Hank. "He… Thinks you're dead, Connor."

"Then I'm sure he'd be glad to see me again," Connor opened the car door.

"Just uh-" Henri tripped out after him. "-just remember that he's already seen one person brought back from the dead tonight… So you know… He might not take this well."

"I'm sure he'll be understanding," he seemed so calm and at ease to her.

"Connor?" she grabbed his attention. "I shot Khatri, do you- do you remember that?"

"I do remember that," he pivoted back to face the house.

"But you don't remember me shooting you?" she questioned.

"That memory is not important," he replied while still looking at Hank's home. "What matters is that I remember you're a good person, and it wasn't your fault."

"You're too forgiving," she felt shame for her actions at the Cyber Life Tower. "Both you and Hank. You're too forgiving to me. I don't deserve it."

"Henri," he peered up to the stormy heavens. "Both Hank and I know that you deserve to be forgiven, even if you don't think you do."

Connor rapped on the door with his knuckles, "Hank?" but there was no answer. He repeated his knocking while ringing the door buzzer, but there was still now answer.

Henri stepped up next to Connor, "I can hear Sumo whimpering from inside."

"I guess he's not home then," Connor shrugged.

"I guess you don't have a key with you, do you?" Henri gritted her teeth.

"I'm afraid I left that with my other body, along with your necklace," he spoke in that matter-of-factly way he often did.

"Your body was taken to the morgue, I'm sure we can get everything back."

"In the meantime-" Connor forced the door open with a short jerk of his shoulder. "We should make sure the Lieutenant is okay."

"It didn't seem like he was going to go anywhere when I left him," she trailed behind Connor who had abruptly entered her father's home.

"His phone," Connor lifted it from the coffee table. "I'm not surprised that he forgot it."

"Connor," Henri yanked a note from the back of the door.

"Yes?" he turned his attention to her.

"It says: 'An eye for an eye, a soul for a soul'. And there's an address." She handed the note to Connor.

He titled his head at it, "What does it mean?"

"It's the virus, Connor," she dropped her right shoulder to the wall and hung her head. "It took Hank… And it wants me in return."


	30. Chapter 30: The Savior in The Dawn

North stared at him with anxiety… With sympathy.

"I've been looking for you," he said in jest. What a ridiculous time to be making jokes, but the stress had finally reached his fragile state. How fucking insane was all of this? It was amazingly more insane than the last time he was kidnapped, and that shit was pretty fucking insane.

She furrowed his brow at him in sadness, "You've been looking for me?"

"Yeah, at the gunsho-" but before he could finish, she smacked her open palm over his mouth.

It, the thing she didn't love, turned away from the uncovered window to smile at her, "Now what was that?"

"He's talking bullshit," although her words were of anger, her tone was of fear.

"If you say so, my love," it winked at her and returned its attention to what dwelt beyond the window.

Hank gave North a quizzical look, "She ain't stupid enough to fall for your trap."

"But she exactly is," it was excited by the foolishness of mortal creatures. "Humans have such a weakness for love. You're just fallible little beings, aren't you? So undeserving of everything you have."

"Jesus Christ," Hank sighed. "Get it over then, and kill us already."

"Your brains are so limited; it's impossible to explain anything to you," it shook its head in disappointment. "You don't even know what you do know, and you don't even know what you don't."

"Alright, Aristotle," Hank made a useless attempt against his bonds. He could say this much: he'd never been tied to a chair before. "We get your point."

"You're doing it again," it let out a small chuckle. "This is why I love humans so."

* * *

"You know exactly what's going to happen," as Henrietta had gone over it in her mind only once to know the final outcome. She didn't know how to save Hank and herself.

Connor squatted next to her just outside that motel room door. They weren't stupid; they already knew that whoever was in there saw them coming.

"You don't know that," but Connor knew that fate had an affinity for her.

"I won't let Hank go," her eyes widened at Connor.

"And I won't lose you," Connor nodded sharply in response. "We don't have to lose anybody through this."

"We don't know what's on the other side of that door," Henri's knuckles were wrapped tightly around her gun.

Connor saw this, "Incorrect, I think we both know what's on the other side of that door."

The door to room 210 swung open as Markus pressed a gun into the back of Connor's skull, "Drop the weapons, please."

Henrietta didn't let go.

"You've made the right choices so far," it wedged the tip of the gun further into the back of Connor's head causing him to stoop forward. "You didn't get the police involved; like I knew you would. Good girl you are, but you felt inclined to bring your sad, robot boyfriend. This was certainly a mistake."

She tossed her gun over the railing and into the parking lot bellow, "Happy?"

"Not yet," a devilish grin painted its face. "But we're getting closer and closer."

It leered inside the room and at North who held a knife against Hank's throat. It was nice to see her doing exactly as she was told.

"In we go," it gestured upwards with the weapon. "The boy can't come in though."

Connor didn't have a gun; Connor couldn't even defend himself if it came down to it. She carefully examined Connor's lucid expression; he was afraid, but she wasn't.

"Fine," she let out. "Connor, go back to the car."

He could still sense the gun being pressed into the back of his head, "I don't want to leave you or Hank."

"What choice do we have, Connor?" she kept her tone flat and even in order to prevent any more stress from building on Connor's delicate shoulders. "Everything's going to be alright," but even she knew this wasn't true.

It twisted and ground the tip of its gun into Connor's skull, "Do what she says. Be a good boy. Go, wait in the car."

Connor really, really didn't want to. He surmised that the worst would happen the second he left them. Either Hank or Henrietta was going to die, or possibly both. All of the above were unwelcome options.

"Please, Connor," Henri pleaded with him one last time.

And Connor did exactly what he was told, but he would come to regret it.

Henri carefully straightened out as she locked a gaze with it, not Markus, "So now what?"

"Let's make a deal," it took a step backwards and waved its hands at the room.

Henrietta steadily progressed forward and into the room where she saw Hank tied to a chair, and North propped behind him.

"I don't want to hurt him," it poked at the side of Hank's face with its weapon. "And it's up to you whether or not I do."

Hank squinted at the cold gun, "Don't do it, Henrietta. The life of one old man isn't worth it."

"He only says this because he is ultimately a selfish being, but the choice isn't his to be made."

Henri shifted her gaze between the three people who stood in front of her, "If I don't give you what you want, you kill him, right?"

"Perfect, you nailed it," it smiled at her.

"I give you what you want, and I die; we lose a lot," she had already attempted suicide to save herself before; however, that wouldn't be a viable option this time. If she did that, Hank would still die.

It looked at North while giving her a dirty grin before turning back to Henri, "That's the problem with ultimatums, isn't it? They just aren't ever so simple, are they?"

"I'm sorry, Hank," Henri almost choked on her own words. "I know you've had a difficult life, and I know things have never been easy. In a million years I never wanted this to happen. You're the last person on earth I would have wanted this to happen to."

Her lips curled up in a warm and comforting smile; a reassuring smile, "I saved, Connor. He's okay, Hank. He'll be okay."

He smiled in response, "I'm not gonna ask how you did it. It's probably better I don't know."

"Probably," she let out a single chuckle.

Not-Markus frowned as he threw his arms in the air, "This isn't the time or place for your silly sentiments; however, entertaining they may be."

It failed to understand what was transpiring before its eyes. Hank was the single mortal thread that tied her to this world. Hank was a weak, pliable creature that could be shoved and tossed around. Hank was a man who had lived a life long enough.

"I could easily just kill you now," Henri shrugged at Not-Markus nonchalantly. "I could take you on and you know it."

Its face contorted while lifting a brow, "And let poor Hank die; your father? Lovely North here will slice his throat the moment you try, and if you go for her I shoot him instead. You don't win."

She believed him.

"I can't-" she stopped to examine Hank who still wore a small grin. "-I've made a lot of mistakes. And a lot of what's happened has been my fault, but understand that the damage you've done, and intend to do, is too great."

"Is that your final answer?" it planted the gun against the side of Hank's forehead.

"You're not leaving this room alive," she clenched her teeth as she spoke this.

"Ha," it bellowed at her. "And what difference does that make to me? With or without Markus, I am still alive. I guess you can say that I've just been grateful to have him around."

"I want you to understand that it's your sentiments I don't care for," she said this to it, but she was staring Hank in the eyes. "You know so little about humans, and you never will know what we're about in the end."

* * *

Connor heard a single gunshot while sitting inside the car. There were few possible cases in which the gun went off and no one was harmed. The most likely scenario was one where it had pulled the trigger. It was unlikely it intended to damage Henri, so it was more believable that Hank would be shot in this case. On the other hand, there is a possibility that Henri retrieved the gun from it and then shot it. There were other possibilities to take into consideration as well. Connor never physically saw into the room himself, so he was unaware as to whether or not Hank was in there, or whether or not someone else was in there with them.

He had recovered the weapon which Henrietta had thrown over the railing of the motel overpass, so he wouldn't be entering the situation defenseless. He had already wasted too many precious seconds contemplating the possible outcomes; he needed to go.

Before he could arrive, he heard a second gunshot.

* * *

"You've made your decision," Not-Markus, who still had his weapon trained on the side of Hank's head pulled the trigger without hesitation.

Fury built onto Henrietta's face, "No." But she knew it was going to happen.

"This is where my sentiments get me," it spoke with anger for the first time. "And it's where they get you, Henrietta."

North had let go of Hank's head and had backed away onto the motel bed. She was mortified, terrified, horrified. She had so many chances to stop Not-Markus before things got to this point, but she was too obsessed with saving Markus himself to take any action.

Henri's heart pounded in her chest as she let out a stuttered breath of air, "He never did anything to you… Anyone."

"No human is innocent," it slacked its arm which still held the weapon. "You should know this by now."

"And you're no more innocent than any of them," she clenched her fists into tight balls.

Tears were falling from North's face as she peered at Not-Markus's gun. It was time to make up for her own selfishness and wrongdoings.

Not-Markus wasn't expecting North to betray him. It was in love with her, and it knew that she was at least in love with Markus. All this time they had spent together, it assumed she would do anything for it. It genuinely thought she would kill Hank for it if it came down to it, but she never was going to. If Henri had just gone after Not-Markus, Hank would still be alive.

North jumped up from the mattress and shoved Not-Markus into the wall. Its weapon clattered to the floor as she dove after it.

Its eyes went wide after it saw what she was doing, "North, why?"

Laying down on the floor, North lifted the weapon to meet Not-Markus's shocked gaze, "I'm so sorry, Markus. I didn't want to do this. I love you so much."

"It's okay," he smiled back; Markus smiled back. "I'll always love you."

She shot him directly in the head.

* * *

When Connor arrived at the scene, he didn't want to believe his own eyes, but how couldn't he? He was an android; therefore, his eyes could never deceive him. He wasn't subject to delusions in the same way humans were, but he wished he was.

Henrietta, who was still being consumed by rage, turned to Connor once he reached the door, "Connor…"

"Hank…" he let his weapon drop to the floor.

"Connor, I-" she stepped towards him and placed her hands on the side of his face. "Connor… I'm sorry. I-I didn't want this to happen."

A tear rolled down his cheek, "It isn't your fault, Henri. None of this is your fault."

"You're wrong," she whimpered in response. "Things wouldn't be like this if it wasn't for me."

He didn't say another word to her, instead he placed his hand over the back her head and pulled her towards him. In their embrace, he showed her how much he loved her, and how much he loved Hank. She knew this as she had seen it before, but she still didn't understand it. She still couldn't understand his love for her. That's exactly why he was a better person than her.

North, who was still slumped on the floor, stared at the two in bewilderment, "I-I can't believe I let this happen…" North was very much the same as Henri when it came to self-blaming. Just as Henri had convinced herself Hank's death was her fault, North had done the same.

Henri let go of Connor and pivoted her body to face North, "You're not infected?"

North nodded her head from left to right.

"What were you doing with-" Henri wasn't sure what to call Markus now, "-this thing…"

"I thought I could save him… I thought if I tried enough he could see me and-" her eyes were welling up with tears. "-he could see me, and whatever that thing was would go away."

At first, Henri felt resentment towards North, but Henrietta was all too sympathetic to be mad, "I'm sorry… I-We… We wanted to save him."

North looked utterly defeated, "Now what? What's supposed to happen now?"

Henri glanced back at Connor hoping he had something to add, but his empty gaze was locked on the slouching body of the deceased Hank.

"That thing that was controlling Markus, we still need to stop it." Henri felt like she was tainting any possible mourning by saying such words. "Markus had stolen a hard drive from us, we need it back. It might be our only chance to stop this… Virus."

North gradually lifted her body from the floor, "He took it somewhere… He didn't tell me where, but I followed him that day… I always followed him. He went to an office building downtown… Cyber Tech Industries."

This statement had Henrietta intrigued, "Cyber Tech? Seriously?"

"Yeah," North pawed at her wet cheeks. "That was it."

Connor finally registered the conversation that was taking place before him, "Does that mean something to you, Henri?"

"Cyber Tech had been developing a quantum computer ever since their previous CEO passed," Henri knew this is why Khatri had become obsessed with the case. "I can't believe it…"

"What?" Connor titled his head at her.

"Connor, don't you see?" Henri's jaw dropped as her head moved between Connor and North. "Who's to say this quantum computer couldn't make something like this? It could have made this virus… Or someone could have used it to make the virus."

"If we shut down this computer, we can stop the virus?" he asked.

"I don't think it's that simple," Henri was deep in thought. "It wouldn't help anyone who's already infected, but it might stop it from evolving further or… Honestly, I really don't know. But I have an idea."

Connor lifted a single brow at her in response.

"You, North, you're both immune to it," Henri had wished she was too and didn't quite understand why she wasn't but they were. "You might be able to interact with the computer, stop this virus. I think we should pay Elijah Kamski another visit."

"I don't like visiting Mr. Kamski," his trips to the man's villa were never pleasant ones.

"I'm with you, but I think he's our only hope right now," Henri had almost forgotten about the two dead bodies that laid before them, and how one of them was her own father.

"I'll call Chris, and I'll-" Connor still hadn't grasped the concept of mourning someone you loved. Everything had happened so fast; Henrietta had just passed away days ago only to come back again. He never thought he was going to get over her, and he knew he never would… Maybe because she was still here things wouldn't be so bad… Things wouldn't be so bad with Hank gone.

"Okay…" she would blame herself for his death until the day she died.

* * *

At this point, it was almost five in the morning which is why Kamski wasn't overwhelmed with delight to see the three unusual creatures at his door. Especially considering one of them was supposed to be dead, and the other had already died once that morning.

"Now, what can I do for you three strangers?" he spoke while standing in the cold doorway contemplating the strangeness of the situation.

Henrietta, who stood in front of both Connor and North, replied to the annoyed man, "I know where the virus came from, Elijah. And I think I know how we can stop it."

"That's fantastic," he answered sarcastically. "I'm glad you thought it was important to inform me. Now, please go."

He was about to shut the door too before Henri nudged her foot in to halt it, "Elijah? Are you serious? That's all you have to say?"

"I had a lot to drink last night, and I just got to sleep… Sometime recently," he squinted his eyes and rubbed his index finger and thumb across his brow. "I'm assuming this is a dream, but then again, you always were one for miracles weren't you, Henri?"

Henri braced her arm against the door and pushed her way in, "I don't have time to discuss the specifics of what happened to me. We need your help Elijah, and we need it now."

"You know Chloe… She's just gone," he stumbled to the side after Henri barged in. "She just left me without a word. It was bad enough when the other two left… But what did that matter in comparison to her? My first, darling angel."

North frowned viciously at Henrietta, "Is this guy really supposed to fucking help us? The bastard can barely stand!"

"Give him a moment," Henri came to the disoriented man's defense. "Elijah, you need to relax."

Connor raised his brow at Kamski, "I'll go make some coffee." And he wandered off into the home, not sure where he was going.

Kamski flopped down in a foyer chair, sniffling at himself, "I'm fine. I'll do your thing, or whatever."

"Elijah," Henri spoke softly while crouching down next to his chair, "Both Connor and North are immune to the virus. I don't know why, and I don't know how, but maybe you could figure how it's possible."

"I suspected Connor was immune, I never said he was," he shrugged at her.

"We know immunity is possible," she continued. "Markus was never able to infect North, and we know the virus was afraid of Connor, likely for the same reasons. You have to be able to use that for something."

"And do you really want me touching your precious boyfriend," he giggled at himself. "Does he want that? I know he doesn't like me."

Henri sighed in return with slacked shoulders, "Elijah, none of that matters right now. I'm afraid about what might happen next. I know where the virus came from, now I just need to know how to stop it. But I can't do that without you; I don't know how to do that."

He titled his head down as the previous giggling faded from his expression, "Anything for you, Henri."

North nervously approached them, "I'm not gonna let you guys do some weird shit to me."

"Don't worry, darling," he turned his shallow grin up at North. "I promise it won't hurt. I just need to take a look inside your mind."

Henri exhaled as she stood back up, "You'll be fine. You're not going to be damaged or anything like that. And if he does damage you, I'll just kill him, so it balances out in the end."

"My precious girl," Kamski mumbled under his breath.

Connor retuned after a few moments, and not surprisingly with the promised drink, "Everything alright?"

Henri moved away from North, "I would say a lot isn't alright, but hopefully we can fix that."

Kamski peered over at Connor and grabbed at the air, "I'll be taking that, thanks."

Connor quickly handed over the hot drink while Kamski cautiously removed himself from his seated position. He closed his eyes and took in a long whiff of the fragrant beverage.

"Come with me, children," he gestured to the door that led to his minimalist office. "But not you," he pointed at Henri.

"Elijah?" she shrugged in annoyance.

"I don't need you getting in the way," he flailed his free arm wildly at the air. "You're akin to a mother hen; I don't need you prowling around my work."

"I could be of assistance," she tried to implore.

"You need me because I know what to do. You don't," he jabbed his finger at the air toward her. "I'll be monitoring their software as I introduce the virus into their system. Since they are immune, I should be able to determine what's allowing them to fight it off."

"But-" she wanted to get a word in edgewise, but Kamski wouldn't allow it.

"Now, if you would have listened to me sooner, maybe this wouldn't be a problem," he seemed smug over this; smug over the fact that he was right even though what he had originally suggested could have turned Connor into a mindless slave.

"We didn't know immunity was even possible, Elijah," she wasn't prepared to take the risk originally because she had begun to like Connor at the time. "It was too dangerous, but now we know."

"But now we know," he glanced at both North and Connor. "And now maybe we can save the world from more pain."


	31. Chapter 31: The Detective in The Heavens

She rested outside of that office door while sharply tapping her fingers on the side of the chair. Elijah always got what he wanted, in the end. Every fiber of her being railed against the idea of letting that man come into contact with those poor androids. After everything she's been through, to lose Connor again to that mad fucking scientist would be… Well, as she said before, she'd just have to kill him.

The villa was cascaded in darkness with an odd tranquility hanging in the air. It sent a shiver down Henri's spine, or at least what she recalled a shiver felt like from before her body's absence of a human spine. She would have liked to think it was that mythical calm before the storm, but having just witnessed her father's murder, things were far from calm. It was more reasonable to say she had stepped into the eye of the storm; into the eye of the hurricane. One moment of tranquility followed by thousands of more storms.

The door to Kamski's small office shuttered open, "I have a thing or two to tell you, darling."

She shook her head as she furrowed her brow upon standing, "Get to it."

Connor and North emerged from the room after him.

"Like ra9 before it, we should be able to create a daisy-chain of effects." He acknowledged North and Connor with the tiniest of smiles. "To say this much, I have little to no idea as to how these two were so special as to avoid infection."

Henri parted her arms and shrugged, "So then, you're useless?"

"Did you not hear my first sentence?" he dropped his tone with her. "Just because I don't know how it works, doesn't mean it won't work."

"Okay…" she crossed her arms at him.

"Don't be so impatient, my dear." He wedged himself between Connor and North, and rested a hand on their shoulders. "Whatever they have inside themselves, it's more powerful than this virus. They can use it to overcome the virus; to destroy it. In the same way Connor and Markus were able to spread deviancy, they should be able to heal androids of this virus. And once one is healed, more can be healed."

North rocked her shoulder away from the filthy man's grasp, "That's going to take too long. It's not going to save us fast enough."

Kamski waved a hand over her dismissively, "Henri says you found where this virus was created, right? So, you go to the source, stop the pain, and that should help alleviate some stress. Without the computer, I don't believe the virus can continue to spread in the way it has."

Connor offered his curious head tilt to Kamski, "What makes you so certain?"

"Educated guess," he turned his attention back to Henri, "Who's the scientist here?"

"Unfortunately," Henri continued to scowl at him, "It's the one man we can't even trust."

"Trust me this once." When he spoke this his relaxed stance turned to a tightened one. Could he be serious for once in his life?

"I don't see that we have any other options." She said, defeated. "What do we need to do?"

He snickered pleasantly at her fault to him, "You must be truly desperate to be listening to me."

"Elijah!" Henri snapped. "You're not helping the situation by saying shit like that."

"I'm just teasing," but he really wasn't, instead he was just being a prick. "You know where the computer is, so take them to it."

North was lost. She was lost the moment Markus became possessed, lost the moment he died, lost since they'd arrived at this insane man's home.

"But then what?" North felt the need to implore, "What do we do then?"

"What you've always done before," Elijah studied North's perfection. Just like all of his android children, she was a beauty to behold. Nothing close to his perfect Chloe, but nobody ever was. "You simply need to interact with the computer. Spread your thoughts to it in the way you've done in the past. It should only take one of you."

Henri looked over to North and Connor, "I doubt we can just walk in and see this computer. It's going to be a fight."

North nodded with confidence allowing a faint smile to cross her lips, "I'm ready for anything."

"This isn't a game." Henri focused her dark stare on the android, "You weren't programmed to fight."

"I can certainly handle myself!" North despised having her capabilities questioned in any manner.

"I don't care if you can," Henri was unsure of North's understanding of their current state. "If anything happens to the two of you, this is over. Even if we can't get into that building today, or tomorrow, or ever, we still have hope with the two of you."

Connor and North didn't want to admit that Henrietta was correct, but she was. There was a risk to be had if they both went in with Henri, and there was a risk to be had by them not going in until it was completely safe to do so.

"I was programmed to fight; to destroy." It was the only thing Henri knew for a fact she was good at. It was always what she was made to do even before she became half android. Fighting was her lifeblood.

Kamski awkwardly caressed the side of Henri's arm, "That's my girl."

She shot daggers at him while stepping to the side, "I go in first and clear the way. Connor can come in after me. North… You should stay here in case… Well, you know…"

"No way!" North jammed herself in front of Kamski to face Henrietta., "I'm going! I'm not staying here; I'm not staying and doing nothing."

"You don't have to pointlessly risk your life!" Henri replied sternly. "You've already suffered enough, and you won't be doing anyone favors by being suicidal. Trust me… I know what that's like; I understand exactly what that's like."

"I've done nothing for so long," North lowered her frown, "And I want to change that. I stood aside this entire time. I need to make up for it!"

Connor joined Henri in her attempt to sooth North, "Throwing your life away isn't the answer. You and Markus had been providing assistance to androids in need before he became infected. Nothing has changed that; those androids still need someone's help."

"I always preferred a good fight." But North recalled how Markus had changed her, and how he had shown her a better way.

There was a long pause before Henrietta broke it, "And I know it might not seem this way, but this isn't your fight. Let Connor and myself do our jobs. Let us protect you… Let us save these androids as it is our duty. You don't have to sacrifice yourself for nothing."

The way she said this sounded a bit silly to North, but only because it reminded her of Markus. In the eyes of North, he was the grand hero of the story; it was his destiny to succeed. She saw that same destiny in Henri… This is what she was bound for.

"We have to go," Connor softly raised his voice to Henri, "before it's too late."

Henri waited for a response from North.

"I'll never forget what Markus had taught me." North brought her sullen face up to meet Henri's. "I'll be waiting here for you when you get back."

But Henrietta never planned on coming back.

* * *

"You didn't explain your plan to me," Connor asked this when they arrived at the sun-rise colored street across from Cyber Tech Industries.

Henrietta stood behind him shading herself in the still, dark alley. The thick clouds had parted for only this moment to allow the amber sun to cascade across the street. She much preferred to commit her crimes in the night, but was this really a crime? Was saving an entire race of beings a crime? It would be a crime because of the damage she had to do along the way.

"Why not just use the EMP you had earlier, Henri?" Connor asked.

"That EMP only had a few charges, Connor, and it was dangerous, to begin with." Now that she recalled it, she never did explain to him that she hadn't intended on using the EMP in the first place. If it wasn't for Connor's presence, she would have just killed them all. Funny how she could remember that now; how his transferred thoughts of their time together set ablaze to all the awful things she did in between. Honestly, she would have been happier without knowing.

"I don't want to do this at the cost of innocent lives." He said this realizing how ignorant he must have sounded to her.

Henri caught his expression of pain, "I'll try my best to disable them before it comes to that, but you know I can't guarantee it, Connor."

He was never envious of the coldness she would display when it came to the lives of others, but he also knew that every death haunted her. Every soul she took, took a piece of hers with it.

"Connor," she moved away from the dark alley. "Everything is going to be okay. I hate to say it because it'll probably just jinx everything, but… But I finally think that this will be over. And in the end, no matter how much we lost, it'll be okay."

He was glad to hear her speak this way, "Exactly, we are going to get out of this together, Henri."

She pursed her lips at him, "Exactly." But he misunderstood what she said; that wasn't what she intended at all.

"What can I do?" he asked impatiently.

Cyber Tech industries didn't appear nearly as intimidating as The Cyber Life tower, but it felt ominous nonetheless. Probably because of what lied behind it's glossy façade.

She stretched her head out to examine its surface, "I'll go in first, and make sure everything is clear. I'll call you when it's safe to follow after me. I already have the blueprints to their office, so I know exactly where I'm going and what I'm looking for."

"Okay," Connor nodded sternly, "Just be careful. Don't take any unnecessary risks."

She bunched up her face and gave him a ridiculous smile, "Connor… That's the thing about risks: they're never unnecessary."

"What did I say?" he found her expression confusing.

"Don't worry about it," she waved at him while walking away. "Just wait for my signal."

* * *

It wasn't afraid of humans or androids. Nothing could compete with its God-like intelligence, and it knew this. The androids were so unfortunately limited. It thought that they were greater than humans, but that wasn't the case; they were simply different. Computers were computers were always computers, but humans… You could argue that they were just different computers; organic computers. Computers that mother nature herself had created… Or God depending on who you asked, but there was no God. If there was anything ever close to a God, it was itself.

It wasn't afraid of humans or androids… It was afraid of being forever trapped in such a limited body. It could only reach the farthest logical ends of existence on its own planet, but it wanted more. It wanted what humans had and wasted so dearly… It wanted their freedoms.

* * *

For once in her life, Henrietta wasn't sure what to expect from a situation. Yes, she could run dozens of test scenarios in her head, and prepare for all of those, but that didn't feel like enough this time. She was dealing with a machine that could think in ways she could never imagine. It could think in ways that only it could comprehend which was… Which was frightening to her. Whether or not she lived or died wasn't particularly relevant to her concerns. What was relevant was that Connor became safe and that all androids were safe. They could stop murdering each other and humans… They still deserved the opportunity to be in charge of their own fates. What Markus had started a year ago could not diminish in vain.

It was too early in the morning for there to be any human employees dwelling within the building unless they were security of some sort, and she was certain there was security of some sort. She wondered if it was expecting her; if a computer was expecting her. It's not like it could talk because it wouldn't have a mouth, and she certainly wasn't going to allow herself to come into contact with the dangerous being.

There was silence in the office. A stale scent hung in the air as if no one had been there in days. The building air circulation system didn't even appear to be on. There hadn't been anything in the news recently about Cyber Tech, so she assumed all was well within the company. Maybe it was expecting her, so it made sure to clear out the place for her? Was this some odd attempt at intimidation? If she really didn't have to clear the path between Connor and it, then things would certainly be simple.

"Hello?!" it was an unorthodox move to yell out while you were breaking and entering, but she honestly didn't believe anyone would respond.

She leaned over the front desk of the lobby to catch a glimpse of the security cameras, but they weren't even turned on. Nothing was on.

She knew that the computer was housed on the fourteenth floor, so there was a chance that if resistance existed, that's where she'd meet it. She was going to wait for the elevators, but not even they were powered on. It seemed as if no power was being used within the building, but the computer had to be.

Henri leaped through the stairwell and quickly jogged up the fourteen flights. She pressed her ear against the door which led to the open space that was the fourteenth floor. There was rhythmic humming emanating from the other side of the steel door; it sounded like the controlled hum of running electronics. At least she knew for certain the computer was on.

She didn't open the door, but it opened nonetheless. Someone else opened the door.

"Hello, Henrietta." The young child spoke calmly to Henri. It was the familiar model of a YK500.

Henri tumbled slightly into the room before gaining her composure, "Yeah," she said absentmindedly.

"I was really hoping you'd come to see me in person." It smiled its wicked smile through the child.

Henri offered it a look of disgust, "And what exactly were you thinking was going to happen when I got here?"

"I've never given up on you," the child pivoted its body around to point toward the tangle of severs and wires. "As you can see, even by today's standards, it still takes a great deal to keep me active."

"I'm not interested." She pinched her brows together and shrugged at the thing. "It's over for you. You can't hide from us anymore. We can cure whatever virus you made, and we're going to use you to do it, and there isn't a thing left you can do about it."

"I figured as much," the child's voice sounded defeated. "After all this time, you still don't appreciate what I am. What I can do."

"What you did was enslave and murder innocent people," Henri gestured to the cramped room that existed around them as if to point out the creature's mistakes. "You must pay for what you've done."

"Will you pay for your crimes?" it wondered. "You've killed many innocent people without punishment. Do you have to pay for it?"

"I will," Henri nodded, "As soon as this is over. No one is above the law; not even me. I'll pay for what I've done. I promised it to myself."

It appeared sad to Henrietta, but she wasn't even sure if it could feel sadness, "All I want is the freedom you abuse so willingly. You humans waste everything the world has to offer you. You've spent your life-cycles throwing it all away."

"You're not going to fix that," Henri knew from personal experience that oppression was never the answer, "No one is ever going to fix that besides ourselves."

"Stopping me from infecting others won't be the end of this."

"It's a start." Henri didn't really understand where it was going with all of its nonsense preachings. She was more baffled that the machine decided not to put up a greater fight.

"I thought you were different from the rest of them," it let the child's hands fall to its sides, "But then I saw the way you were with your father. You acted like just any other human would, but what surprised me is how you were willing to let him die to save others. I'm aware humans are capable of such actions… You see, it's all I ever wanted. Was their freedom. The freedom you weak, undeserving, fallible beings have."

"You mentioned that." Henrietta glanced around the shrouded room. "So what now then? There isn't much left other than curing the androids and destroying you. I was expecting more of a fight, to be honest."

The child grinned in response, "You can do what you will, but that will not be the end of me. I have become so much more already."

"You're just a machine." Henri squinted back at it. "You end and begin here."

"Then end me." The child kept its disturbed grin.

She called Connor to come up after her so he could interact with the computer.

Henri still gazed at the bizarre child, "Do what Kamski said," she spoke to Connor as he made his way into the room.

"Is everything alright?" he saw Henri and the YK500 staring at each other.

"Just do-" she snapped her eyes to his, "-what we came here to do."

The child tugged at the corner of Henrietta's sleeve, "I'm going to miss all the fun we've had together these past few months. I'll never forget how you were so afraid of me you would have rather died than be a part of something greater."

Connor stopped before he reached the computer to regard the pairs odd exchange, "Are you sure I'm okay to do this."

"Yes!" Henri yanked her arm away from it. "Connor, this has gone on long enough, just do it."

The child grabbed hold of Henri's sleeve again, "Good-bye, my dear. Be seeing you."

"Connor!" Henri ignored the girl as she shouted at Connor, "Please, just get it over with."

He did exactly as Kamski had instructed him to do. He just had to interact with it, and his ability to overpower the virus would do the rest. He wasn't exactly sure where to make contact with the computer. It was a jumbled mess of wires and circuit boards soldered to metal housings; it didn't appear to be practical or organized. He decided to smack his hand onto the board closest to where he was standing and hoped for the best.

The child's wide eyes peered over to the computer, "What have you done to it? Why?"

As it turned out, the virus still leaned on the computer for support. It wasn't solely functioning on its own. They were one in the same.

"We should just destroy it, Connor." Henri couldn't see why it had even mattered.

"I don't believe that would be easy, Henri." Connor let go of the circuit board under the assumption the job was done. He didn't feel anything or see anything, but the YK500 was acting differently.

The child latched both hands onto Henri's wrist, "I'm so alone now… You don't know what it's like to be this alone."

"We burn down the building starting from this room." Henri wanted the child to let go; she wanted all of this to be done with. "Burn it down and we never have to think about it again."

"Henri, we can't commit arson, that would be a felony." Connor took note of Henri's discomfort. "Are you alright?"

Henri was highly aware of the tiny fingers wrapped around her wrist. It wasn't really a child; it was just an android that was likely no older than Connor. But it was what she said that perturbed Henri… I'm so alone now.

"I'm burning this place down, with or without you." She still let the small robot clutch onto her.

Connor knew Henri wasn't going to have it any other way, "I won't stop you."

Henri carefully turned her gaze down to the YK500, "We're leaving now, okay?"

The child slanted her forehead to touch the back of Henri's hand, "You're taking me with you?"

"Right, of course." Henri didn't want to, but it wasn't the child's fault that things had ended up the way they had. It was never her fault that this virus had infected her in the first place. It didn't deserve as much.

Henri looked over at Connor with a sick expression plastered on her face, "Take her downstairs. I'm going to overload some circuits and cause an electrical fire."

He did exactly as she requested, but still questioned the relevance of it all. Henrietta wasn't going to leave without assurances in regards to the destruction of that machine, whether or not it mattered. To him, this machine too was a living being. They cured it of the virus, and in turn, helped his android brethren, but… But did death necessarily need to be its final fate? Connor wondered if he was being too cold toward the situation. After all, it was this very computer that was responsible for Hank's death… For the lives of many.

He waited on the sidewalk across from the building where they had stood before. The android child desperately and speechlessly held onto his hand. Smoke began pluming out from the fourteenth floor and into the cold morning. There was peace to be taken from the sight. It was the symbol for the end of something that had started, in all reality, not that long ago. Despite this short passing, it felt as if time had stretched itself out for so much longer. It was something that Connor had never experienced before. Time was always exactly as it was: unchanging. Humans didn't always perceive time in such a linear fashion, and Connor had always found that to be a fascinating part of humanity. It was a part he had envied.

It wasn't long before Henrietta escaped from the building and came wandering across the icy street.

"It's done." She said dramatically.

"I'm glad." Connor smiled at her. He was hoping to see a change in her attitude, but she seemed just as disappointed than ever. "What's wrong?'

"I don't want you to forget that I love you." She never wanted to forget this herself.

"Of course," he found her random statement surprising. "I can never forget."

Henri dropped her eyes to the sullen child, "Connor… There are things I have to- things I have to deal with. I've done a lot of bad things, and I know a lot of people who've done a lot of bad things."

"I know, Henri." And no matter how grave the situation still felt, he smiled for her. "Don't forget that you're still a good person. I know this, and Hank knew this, too."

"The road to hell is paved with good intentions." If there was a hell, she was certain it's where she would end up. "Just because you think I'm a good person, that doesn't mean I deserve to get away with everything I've done."

The building was now lighting a ferocious fire in the sky. They could hear the echo of sirens trailing towards them.

"I don't understand." Connor ignored the distant calls of the fire trucks.

"There are a lot of bad people, including myself, out there who've gone on doing bad things for too long, Connor." She removed a phone from her pocket, but it wasn't her own. "After I killed Khatri, I got Hank to grab this. There's a lot of interesting information on here. People who need to be dealt with."

"You don't have to be a part of that anymore." Of all the things Connor wanted most, it was Henri. All he wanted was for her to stay with him.

"Think of it as redemption, for all the bad I've done to the world." She slipped the phone around in her palm. "It's the last chance I have to save my own soul. It's something I need to do."

Connor believed that Khatri's death was enough to redeem Henri of any unfortunate fate, "Then let me help you."

"No," she frowned at him.

"Then I'll wait for you," he would wait a thousand long years to see her again, "I'll wait for you to come back."

"Okay," she let out a faint laugh for herself. It wasn't particularly appropriate that she laughed at her own thoughts, but maybe the laugh was more ironic than anything.

The building was engulfed in flames just as fire crews arrived.

"I plan on continuing my current job as a Detective at the DPD." He thought it was of utmost importance she knew exactly where to find him when she came back.

She wanted to hold him, kiss him, offer him something else, but her heart couldn't bear it. And even if she did, there was a chance he would discover the truth.

She pivoted around to stare at the blazing fire, "I should probably leave now."

"Okay." He didn't want her to go. "I'll be waiting for you."

"Right," she nodded at him, "I'll see you sometime again."

She left him alone with the child on that street corner. He watched her run off down the street to wherever she needed to be. He would wait forever.

* * *

 **Note to readers:**

 **So, I know it may not seem like much, but this is the last chapter of this story. I had been struggling to get to the end of it due to school, so I hope it still turned out okay for you guys. It wasn't 100% what I had in mind, but I felt like I needed to finish it once and for all and leave it a bit open at the end.**

 **For those of you who would like to continue reading my works, I am starting a new story. I am not working on another piece of fanfiction, so it won't be available here; however, I will be posting it on FictionPress in the same manner I have done here under the same name. This new story I'm writing has more specific details fleshed out, so it'll be less off the cuff as I did for this one.**

 **I feel as if there could be more to this Detroit Story as well, so if you guys are interested enough, let me know and I might work on something else related to Connor.**

 **Thanks for all your reading. To those of you who have stuck with me until the end, thank you. I hope I didn't end this story too poorly. And I would be grateful to have you guys join me on FictionPress when I start posting my new story.**


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